Perfect Mistakes
by Chained Yet Adrift
Summary: What if the roles had been reversed and Wendy hadn't died? A/U, canon, Pairing: Oliver Thredson/Wendy Peyser.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my twisted imagination.

A/N: This fic is not meant to offend anyone or cause some outrageous revolt. It is simply another product of three options: too much smutty imagination, too much time on my hands to help it thrive, and many people demanding more of the first.

Pairing: Oliver Thredson/Wendy Peyser.

American Horror Story: Asylum

**Perfect Mistakes**

He thought he had his mind made up. He thought he knew he had the _one._ The one that would become his lover and mother to him and would let him know that there would be none other that could accept him for the damaged man that he had become.

He thought the journalist had enough caring and compassion to find out what made him tick. But once she discovered his true self and the motives behind the monster, she called him a sociopath and promised to tell everyone his long kept secret the moment she had the chance. He had spent so long trying to gain her trust and hopefully her acceptance, but as with all the other disappointing choices in women he'd made, she let him down too. And he was disgusted to find out that she had her own ulterior motives and was only it for one thing. As a result, he had no choice but to end it...

And her.

She had been a terribly careless mistake, a mistake that could have done him in. And it was one he would not make again. For a while, he pondered if this was a signal that it was time to put a stop to all of this evil and put the mask of skin away for good. Until he remembered _her_.

The Journalist's secret lover.

Of course he had known all about her just before things with Lana turned sour, but she wasn't of his interest at the time. Until now. Back at the Asylum, he had learned of her during their therapy sessions together that she was a devoted third grade teacher and apparently exhibited the many traits of a loving maternal instinct that he so desperately craved and he mentally kicked himself for not having seen it before.

He had been watching her from the shadows for weeks, following her to and from the elementary school to anywhere else she went. It didn't matter, as long as he could be close to her, if only for a little while because something about her was… _different_… that he couldn't seem to let go. And the more he watched her, the more he found himself drawn to the little teacher that was now forced to move on with her new life, alone. Would she be the one that would make the killing stop, make all of his lifelong torment go away? Or perhaps he should just do away with her too to rid himself of the troubling and haunting memories of his last failed attempt for peace.

Recently he had witnessed her beginning to pack away her clothes and stuff her favorite knick knacks away into brown boxes scattered throughout her house. He'd overheard her plans over the phone about moving out of their small, cozy house filled with the painful memories of what he knew she'd done to the love of her life and it was then that he knew he had to act quickly.

The time for him to decide had come and he needed to do it now before it was too late and she would be gone forever.

Oliver watched from the shadows of the thin, gnarly tree branches blowing in the wind above his head as he stood outside the open window that Wendy so carelessly left open. His thick fingers clutched to the signature mask of smooth skin balled in his left hand and the sharpened knife gripped tightly in the other as he watched her nude, lithe form climb delicately from the shower that she and Lana once shared. As if on cue, his mind began to run rampant of the many sensually lewd encounters that may have transpired between those two beautiful women in that single shower room and to his own recent lusty experiences with Lana Winters.

And thus, his decision was made.

He crept out from underneath the window pane and made his way to the entrance of their little home, his eyes taking in his surroundings as he approached the front door. After a moment's hesitation, his finger pressed the glowing doorbell planted into the white wood of the door frame and heard the buzz chime through the walls inside. Soon the sound of rustling could be heard behind the door. The locks begin to twist and snap just before the door cautiously opens just a crack. Oliver's eyes lowered to meet a pair of large brown ones peeking out at him and only then did he realize just how tiny she is behind that door. He can see her small face peering out through the opening she's made. She glanced around him quickly and he could see in the small amount of moonlight that her face is red and stained with the streaks of drying tears as she continues to torture herself with the very thought that Lana was still locked away in an Asylum across town.

All alone.

With Bloody Face.

And she has no one to blame but herself.

Oliver could see the sadness, the heartbreak, and the guilt of what she's done to the woman she would have given her life for and it was eating away at her very soul. And he can't help but take pride in the knowledge that the little piece of paper tucked away in his coat breast pocket is the only hope for Wendy's redemption. He holds back the smile that threatens to take over his face. She doesn't know it yet, but that very same strive for salvation will also be her defeat.

"Are you Wendy Peyser?" he asks, feigning ignorance. His dark brown eyes watch her closely, but is careful to keep his distance to avoid possibly scaring her off.

Her eyes glance from left to right to take in the surroundings behind him to make sure that he is alone and he mentally notes that her guard is up, as it should be.

"It's late… Can I help you?" she asks, her voice hoarse and shaking.

"Miss Peyser, my name is Dr. Thredson. Oliver Thredson. I believe you knew Miss Winters?" he says, his head tilting to the side.

She suddenly swings the door wide at the mention of her lost love and rushes up to him, so easily having forgotten that he's a stranger coming to her in the middle of the night.

So trusting.

"Where is Lana?" she asks, but then her brow creases with skepticism. "I'm sorry, but… How do you know her?"

And as if on cue, the sudden gush of air in her wake assaults his nose with the light clean scent of her freshly showered skin. She is wearing a collared blue robe that stops at her bare knees with two pockets at either side of her hip, all accompanied by a pair of small blue slippers. He stiffens, raising a thick elegant eyebrow at her close proximity and before he can stop himself, his eyes wander over her choice of bed time attire. Oliver catches his wandering gaze and brings his eyes back to where they should be, on hers.

"I am a psychiatrist at Briarcliff Manor. Miss Winter's is – _was _one of my patients. She told me her story and from the moment I met her, I knew she didn't belong there and if I didn't do something, she would be trapped in that place forever."

He sees the pang of guilt hit its intended mark within her chest and her expression softens just enough for him to quickly fashion a small reassuring smile. "I just couldn't just leave her there. So, I smuggled her out of that shit hole with me last night. She was staying at my home on the east side of town."

Wendy's soft brown eyes search his darker gaze hiding behind his rounded glasses in desperation to know if what he speaks is the truth and she asks, "But… why didn't she come home?"

Finally Oliver reached into his trench coat pocket and pulled out the folded little piece of carbon paper that Lana had once so desperately asked him to smuggle out to her secret lover.

He leaned closer and with a hint of gentle, reassurance in his voice he said, "Wendy, she told me of you and asked that I make sure you receive this message."

He watched her slender fingers reach for it slowly, taking the offering from within his large hand and he couldn't resist letting the pads of his fingertips glide quickly along the soft inside of her palm as it went.

Her chest began to rise and fall from the threat of unshed tears as she hurriedly unfolded the piece of paper and he swore he could feel the toll of what seemed like days worth of anxiety and guilt finally being lifted from her small shoulders. Wendy's eyes scanned slowly over the note, reading the hastily written letters as though they would be the last words she would ever hear from Lana's lips.

'_Hello my dearest love. It's been so long since I last saw your face. With every day that passes, I am beginning to forget what I came here for, where I'm going, and even where I've been. But I don't blame you, not anymore. And I just wanted to tell you… that I forgive you.'_

And when Wendy looked back up into Oliver's dark eyes, her own small face frowning with sadness and welling up with tears, he couldn't stop himself from not only admiring but also longing _desperately_ for the unconditional love these two women once shared. And in this moment is when he realized that he wouldn't stop until he had stolen that very same love for himself.

"Why didn't she come with you?" Wendy asked quickly, the buildup of water around the edges of her thin lashes finally spilling forth onto her blue robe and it takes all of his strength to not wipe the stray offensive water away with his thumb.

He crept closer to her and gave her a soft reassuring look, his voice quiet and soft as he exhaled her name, "Miss Peyser…"

His face was somewhat shadowed by the moonlight above and still yet, Wendy clutched the piece of paper to her chest as she gazed up at him as though she were looking for all the world.

"I couldn't risk bringing her with me in fear of us being seen together. A recently escaped mental patient parading through the streets with her psychiatrist would not end well for either of us."

"But is she alright?" she asked.

He nodded and leaned forward to place his hand on her thin shoulder. "She is… But you must understand that Lana has already said her goodbyes. She has decided to move on."

Wendy's brown eyes grew large and distant like she has just been struck with an arrow to bleed out the spreading venom of her nagging guilt.

"Dr. Thredson, if you know where she is, you have to take me to her… Please! Just give me moment to change..."

His hand shot out to grab her arm and it startled her, but she didn't pull away. "Under normal circumstances, it would be my pleasure for you to be reunited, Miss Peyser. But you must understand. Lana has made it very clear that she doesn't wish to see you anymore."

He watched her closely in his grasp as the shock of his words ran through her. Her eyes glazed over as though her mind had become completely vacant and dead inside like the faces he'd often seen at the Asylum when the high of too much medication ran free reign within their bloodstream. And for some reason, he, too, felt that same pang of guilt and shame that was wreaking havoc on her heart because in actuality, _he_ was the one to blame.

Oliver moved closer to her, not releasing her arm and let his other heavy hand fall on her shoulder to regain her wandering attention. Having forgot he was still with her, she finally fought the unwavering grip of her trance and peered back up into his dark eyes.

After a moment, he leaned down next to her ear and said, "She left something for you, but it was too risky to bring here in the open. If you're feeling up to it, I'll gladly take you to my home to retrieve it."

Before she could even think what he was asking completely through, she had disappeared anxiously back inside the house and Oliver just stood there, quiet and stoic as he watched her go, but inside his mind, he was feeling that long lost exhilaration like when he made his very first kill.

It isn't long until Wendy reemerged clad in a light brown summer dress with large green buttons down the front and a pair of soft brown flats.

She stepped outside curiously to find the man in the dark trench coat already at his car holding the blue passenger door open for her. She quickly bounded over to him and halted her approach for a moment in hesitation once she reached her destination. Oliver saw her small fingers gliding over the little piece of paper still held tightly in her grasp.

She looked down to the folded note and back to the tall man next to her and the empty leather car seat in front of her. Oliver watched Wendy silently, albeit anxiously and his dark thick brows furrowed for a moment when she hesitated to climb in. But the realization dawned on him and immediately he knew what she was thinking. Yes, he knew what the note said. Hell, he'd read it almost a thousand times after Lana's death and knew all too well of the forbidden secret that they once shared.

He simply nodded his unspoken understanding to her and Wendy lowered her head as she slid into his car. They rode across town and he gave Wendy the ear she so desperately needed and she didn't hesitate to pour out her sadness and rejection that bubbled from her life like vomit that she couldn't stop even if she tried. And Oliver was listening but not listening, instead using it as the perfect opportunity to steal the tiniest of glances her way because it filled him with the reminiscent days of when he was a young boy vying for the attention of a young girl in his class that may not give him the time of day.

Eventually they reach his front door and Oliver silently slips his house key inside the heavy deadbolt, the shifting of the tumbler's inside not moving quickly enough for him to get her inside. Wendy is close at his heels, so close in anticipation to see what her beloved Lana had left behind that he can feel her little fingers curling into the back of his trench coat and that one simple touch sends a cold shiver spiraling up his back. The door finally gives and they both step inside a cloud of darkness.

While he jangles his key free from the deadbolt, Wendy stayed behind him, a little leery as she peered around his side to take in her new surroundings before finally striding into his living room once he flipped the light switch on. Oliver's dark eyes watched her quietly float past him, her feet barely a whisper over his wooden floors as her hand reached out to travel along the clay brick of his fireplace as she went.

Setting his briefcase down on the floor by his feet, he eased the front door closed and slid his key quietly back inside the front of double cylinder deadbolt, locking them both inside.

"You have a beautiful home, Dr. Thredson..." he heard Wendy say absentmindedly, her brown eyes scanning around as she took in the various earth tones accenting the modest yet masculine décor of his home.

"You surprise me Miss Peyser. I always thought of my attempts at decoration as rather futile." He finally spoke up, walking in behind her and gesturing for the coach. "Please, have a seat."

She did as instructed, wiping the randomly falling tears that still had yet to come to a stop. He disappeared before she'd even noticed he was gone and she looked at him curiously when he emerged with two glasses of white wine.

"I hope you don't find this presumptuous of me, but… I thought you might need this." he said with a small smile, his arm outstretched to her as he passed her the large glass from behind the couch.

To his surprise she smiled and took it from him thankfully and wasted no time in sipping from it. He came around the long brown couch and took a seat next to her. She felt his arm wrap around the back of the couch behind her head and she took another sip of her drink.

They conversed for a while and he'd told her of the many things Lana had told him of her, of course leaving some of the more gruesome details of her stay in Briarcliff and his basement out. After a while, the combination of his warm company and a chance to nurse her drink gave her the opportunity to regretfully relax and reminisce.

As she spoke, his fingers behind her head found the back collared of her dress flipped up beneath her auburn curls and slowly he tucked it down, his fingertips purposely brushing against the warmth of her sensitive skin. He saw her visibly shiver from the cool touch of his hand, but she did not flinch.

He could tell she was becoming light headed and she leaned her head back against the couch. Oliver scooted closer, his clothed thigh bumping against her bare one as he looked her over and he inwardly longed to remove the offending fabric that was keeping the feel of her skin from him.

"Miss Peyser? Are you feeling alright?"

She giggled lightly once she realized she'd been rambling about her feelings and wiped her cheek and fanned her reddening face.

"I'm sorry, I guess my secrets out, isn't it? I'm not that much of a drinker. Lana and I hadn't been able to enjoy ourselves very often before…" she paused, exhaling a soft shuddering breath, her arms curling around herself as though she had just become cold. "…Before they took her away. She was becoming increasingly busy at the Column. Not to mention my third graders at the school. They keep me going all day long! From teaching, chasing, laughing, and hugging to everything else in-between. But… I wouldn't give them up for a minute."

Wendy looked to Oliver wistfully as she thought of her kids, their tiny round faces flipping through her mind like an old scrapbook. Oliver smiled back, admiring her unabashed affection towards the children that weren't even hers and he felt terrible at himself for also feeling a deep rooted jealousy all the same. He chuckled in response, his fingers entwining with hers momentarily as he took the wine glass from her and sat it down on the glass table in front of them.

"It's quite alright. I think it's I who should be apologizing. I sometimes forget that my preference for the taste of strong alcohol is much more than what others are used to."

"You're telling me… I hate to ask, but do you mind if I use your restroom?" she asked him.

He nodded. "Sure, it's down the hall on the left."

"Okay, I'll be right back." Wendy smiled and moved to stand, but her unsteady legs failed to comply and she toppled backward against him.

His free hand shot out to catch her but he wasn't fast enough and she almost stumbled as she fell backward into his lap. She let out a fit full of giggles against his chest and he couldn't resist the smile as he looked down at her in his arms.

She finally looked up at him smiling and found him genuinely smiling down at her as well. He didn't let go of her right away and his eyes roamed along the features of her face.

After a long moment, she finally scooted out of his lap and sat next to him again. She laid her head back against the sofa, Oliver's living room ceiling beginning to spin slightly and she jumped at the cool touch of his palm on her bare thigh.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" he asked and removed his round glasses, sliding on the coffee table.

Her head rolled along the back of the couch until she was looking right at him and she smiled lightly at his comforting gesture, her eyes gently brimming with unshed tears. She leaned closer to him, their shoulders bumping as he took a sip of his drink.

"You know, you're very handsome. Has anyone ever told you that Dr. Thredson?"

Swallowing his wine with a gulp, Oliver looked down to her next to him and feigned puzzlement at her statement.

"Miss Peyser, perhaps it's not I that's being presumptuous anymore." he said with a small smile, his voice quiet but deep.

"Perhaps… or perhaps I need something to help me forget…." she said quietly, her face serious as her eyes lowered themselves to his lips.

Oliver's gaze followed the similar path of hers and he found himself leaning in to take what her eyes had only hinted at. And to his surprise, she grabbed his tie and pulled him closer, closing the distance all her own until she had crushed him against her. Her lips were soft and warm as they moved gently against his, her tongue slipping passed his surprised lips. He tasted slightly smoky with a bit of the wine mingling on his soft tongue.

He felt his skin ignite at her gentle touch and found himself becoming lost in discovering the dark, wet cavern of her mouth. Before he knew it, her warm fingers had wriggled their way past the buttons of his dress shirt.

Wendy felt him climbing over her and she followed his lead by lying backward on the couch, collapsing beneath him under his weight. The muscled contours of his chest felt different and oddly wonderful beneath her fingertips. His mouth danced over hers and she let herself explore the flat planes hidden beneath his shirt, brushing her fingers over his hardening nipples and swallowing his deep moan of approval.

He was fighting to regain control and from the looks of it, he was losing.

Wendy was just so different from _her. _Lana_, _that stubborn, spirited bitch. Lana always held back whenever they were together, once she discovered his true self. Yes, he _thought_ she was the one, but now he could never have been so wrong. Lana was too strong-willed, a fire that he couldn't control. But not Wendy… Wendy was so docile and pliable, more susceptible to his advances.

Weak.

The way she was bending to the demands of his dormant male ego was like crafting with the purest of metals. All he needed to do was apply a bit of heat and he would be able to manipulate her into a wonder of things.

Oliver's fingers found the hem of her dress and he quickly bunched it up passed her hips, revealing her soft pink underwear. His hand found the flat, bare skin of her stomach and he felt her muscles twitch and goosebumps begin to rise under his palm. At first his fingers were met with slightly tense and untrusting muscles, but soon they relaxed beneath his long, thick fingers. Wendy's body was thin, but not fragile and her head eventually rolls backward, her eyes also closing as a gentle smile is spread across her face when his fingers dance up her ribcage.

Their breath is heavy and their eyes half lidded when Oliver regretfully pulls away from their tightened lip-lock. But he doesn't stay absent long and he forcefully grabs the collar of her shirt, pulling it down roughly to expose the soft curve of her naked shoulders and breasts to his eyes.

Her breasts are small and proportionate to her little frame and Oliver can only gaze down at her pebbly nipples, taut and pink like the color of her tongue and he can't resist being drawn to them as they mold perfectly in the curve of his palm. He grips them between his thick fingers, testing their softness and pliancy.

It's been long enough since he last felt the moist intimate warmth of a woman and it takes all of his will to resist burying himself within the hot, slick confines between her legs. He loses himself in watching the many expressions flowing across her face like clouds flowing across the sky. Her face is soft yet strong and for some reason, he admires the fact that she doesn't wear any makeup. Unlike Lana, or most of the women he's captured in his time, Wendy's natural appearance seemed so much more appealing because he knows he'll always see the real her, not some dolled up imitation of her.

Her head lolls against the couch cushion as he plucks and rolls her nipples between each one of his fingers, alternating between the borderline of gentle to near painful to see which she likes best. But he is delighted to see there is no true preference and an immediate craving to see them one day swollen with milk consumes his thoughts and further drives his ambition. His head dips and he envelops one of the pert pebbles between his bow shaped lips, feeling her stiffen and tremble delightfully in his clutches as his tongue swirls over the sensitive peak. Her arms wrap around his neck, her fingernails dragging through the short dark hair at the back of his head and all at once he is enveloped in the intoxicatingly clean scent of her skin. The living room becomes filled with the soft sucking sounds of Oliver's mouth against her skin when Wendy suddenly stutters, "D-Dr. Thredson..."

He is unresponsive and Wendy calls his name again a little louder, this time pressing a hand to his partially exposed chest to push him back as she struggles to slop up the parts of her brain that have turned to muck.

"Oliver." he firmly corrects, finally coming up for air and looking into her confused brown eyes. She frantically searches his own half lidded gaze above her while her mind tries to form a coherent sentence.

"Dr. Thredson is much too formal for the situation we've found ourselves in, wouldn't you think… Wendy?" he adds, quirking an eyebrow upward with a handsome smirk.

She says nothing and Oliver's dark gaze trails from her shocked yet anxious expression to the softness of her lips and subconsciously he licks his own in remembrance of the taste of her on them. Her naked chest is heaving as her lungs rape the air for oxygen and he found her flustered appearance as one he would prefer to see her wear more often after this. Oliver was intent on stealing this stunning young woman right out from beneath Lana's cold dead grasp.

Abandoning her breasts temporarily, he leaned back up to capture her lips once more, his half lidded eyes watching her own begin to close the more he reeled her in.

Hurriedly she rose up; shockingly aware of what was undoubtedly about to transpire between them as though she had been somewhere else the entire time.

"Wait… stop, _stop_! This isn't right. We can't."

"We shouldn't… or you don't want to?" he whispered questioningly, his lips and warm breath brushing against hers.

Wendy's mouth opened, but nothing came out and she looked away, her mind pondering all of the scandalous possibilities of them sleeping together.

"Just… just give me a minute…" she said breathlessly.

Her mind raced with the thoughts of what would happen if any of her friends saw them together, their accusing eyes roaming over her screaming betrayal. And at the same, she thought about how it was Lana's choice to decide to move on. And for the first time in her life, she wondered what it would be like to be free of the need to hide her affections in public that she always had to give under the cover of darkness or behind the closed blinds.

But was it worth it? Even if only to momentarily forget?

She stared at him with wild doe eyes, ready to dash at the first hint of danger. She had become frightened and was beginning to panic and Oliver found it, dare he say... cute. He already knew that despite her best efforts of escape, she was going to fall to him and his heart rate sped up as he moved in again to claim her.

Sitting up he grabbed her thin wrists in one hand and pulled them over her head, straddling her waist to pin her beneath him between his knees. Wendy wriggled like a mouse pinned beneath a cat's paw in hopes to gain freedom, but he was too heavy, much too heavy. Her alcohol induced confusion and pathetic attempts at a struggle were thrilling him beyond all comprehension. But he expected a little resistance. No great change came without it.

If only Lana knew that Wendy, too, was locked away.

All alone.

With Bloody Face.

Oliver felt himself smile inwardly as he looked down at her, drinking in her naked skin. The loud rumbling sound of her rolling in her grave would undoubtedly last him a lifetime.

Desperately he wanted to slip his hand under her pink panties and slide a finger or two inside her just to see how snug she was. She made a small sound of frustration and Oliver looked down at her. He could see the uncertainty wrinkling her brow and he decidedly let her go and reached down, his face calm and content and ran his thumb along the thin ridges to smooth her troubles away.

Her face was a mask of utter bewilderment and in this moment she was fighting to maintain what little control she thinks she still possesses and in this moment, she reminds him of Lana. Fighting, fighting, always fighting….

Wendy felt his cool palms slowly release one of her wrists, only to feel a stray hand slide the thin elastic of her underwear aside and a thick finger run along her wet folds. She sat up, her eyes suddenly freed from the dark clouds that had been overshadowing them and her fingers pulled roughly at his shirt until she'd pried it open and heard two buttons pop off to dance along the wooden floor somewhere in the distance like plastic pennies. Thrilled that she'd decided to surrender, Oliver helped the rest of the way and pulled the white dress shirt off, his undershirt coming over his head and following the other garment to the floor.

Wendy eyes traveled along the dark thin trail of hair leading from his chest and down the center of his stomach to disappear into the waistband of his black slacks. She chewed nervously on her bottom lip as she struggled with whether or not she should go chasing after it.

Oliver does nothing as he kneels on the couch next to her, his dark solemn gaze trailing over her supple pink skin still exposed to him and he is delighted in seeing that she has done nothing to cover herself as her little fingers reach his silver belt buckle, pulling the thick leather loose.

Trading places, she rises from the sofa and he sits down, leaning back to watch her settle between his long legs and finish undoing his slacks. Oliver gazes down at her and watches entranced when her hand runs up his thigh and over the erection that had tented the front of his pants. He hisses between his teeth, his head falling back of its own accord when her short nails rake along the sensitive skin of his hips when she began to tug down the expensive fabric of his black slacks and the white band of his underwear. He slumped further down into the brown sofa, his slim hips twisting as she finally pulls them all the way down to find just what she's been hunting for beneath his cloth.

Oliver felt cool air rush over his skin as his stiffened member was freed from the dark restricting hiding place under the cloth and exposed to her soft brown eyes. Wendy sighed and he could feel her warm breath ghost over his delicate skin. She was so close….

And then Wendy was touching him. Her shaky, delicate little digits comb through the straight, black strands of hair at the base of his hardened shaft and further up his flat belly to rake through the equally dark hair at his chest. The boldness of her touch causes him to shiver, his own skin breaking out into little goosebumps from his scalp down to his very toes. He is unable to tear his eyes from her and decides to let her curiosity explore wherever on his body that her fingers dare to take her. Once again, he finds himself surprised that she leaves no plane uncharted. Her index finger dips into his navel just before her focus returns to the thickened length standing proudly from the dark nest of hair at his groin.

She raised a delicate eyebrow at him as she gazed upon it and he whispered, "For you."

Wendy's hand grasped him at the base, her grip warm and snug. Her eyes darted from his possessive gaze and back to the painfully throbbing erection so nerve wrenchingly close to that little mouth of hers and back again. Oliver waited albeit impatiently until he finally saw that delicious little pink muscle sneak passed her soft lips and touch his swollen tip. Unconsciously, he gasped and his fingers wound into her auburn hair to nudge her closer, but he doesn't have to wait long when her tongue finds him again, this time in a long wet swipe from tip to base then finally taking him fully into her mouth in a move that all but tears a low cry from his throat. Each flicking and swirling sensation of her rough yet smooth tongue dragging along the tightened skin of his shaft drew a small whimper.

Wendy sucked at him slowly, her motions almost timid and unsure at first, but eventually she found her rhythm like one finds their calling, drawing nearly his entire length into her mouth on her way down and sucking hard at the head on her way up.

Oliver's large hands cupped her flushed cheeks as she moved, his thumbs smoothing along the soft skin. His dark brows furrowed and his gaze was intense as he watched her, his deep voice husky and laced with lust as he told her to go fast, not so fast, harder but not too hard.

If she kept following his incoherent of orders, he was going to come. Wendy's tongue swirled around the tip, tasting the salty moisture that was gathering there and he exhaled heavily, his head pushing back into the sofa cushion, his eyes rolling behind his eyelids.

"Ah! Wend-… Shit…" he babbled behind clenched teeth, his hips thrusting to meet her lips. He felt her hands rest on his thighs and glide up his skin, farther and farther still and he couldn't figure out which sensation to focus on first until he felt her feathery light fingertips circle his nipples and he immediately fall apart at the seams.

Wendy heard Oliver grunt and she looked up as his breath quickened, his naked stomach rising and falling and his eyes scrunched tight as though he were in the most glorious of pains. The sensation of him twitching and swelling between her lips became apparent and her eyes grew wide when she felt a hot gush of liquid shoot into her mouth and down her throat. She quickly moved to pull away, but Oliver grabbed her by the back of the neck, holding her there while he used his free hand to pump his length slowly, drawing his own orgasm out along with the last remnants of his seed down her throat before he could coherently let her go.

Finally Wendy fell back on her arm, swallowing and gasping for air and Oliver slowly went after her, laying over her on the floor and burying his face into her naked chest as his lungs worked to catch his breath.

"I'm sorry, I got a little carried away it would seem. No one's ever done that to me before…" he admitted and wondered idly if she could feel his face burning against her skin.

Wendy looked down at the top of his dark head of hair, shaking lightly in his hold, not actually surprised by the action, but more the lack of warning.

"It's alright… Just tell me next time?" she smiled lightly and he looked up at her, his chest brimming with the thought that she would be willing to do it again.

He nodded and sat up slightly, realizing that she was actually still partially clothed, though in disarray. He quickly undid the remaining buttons of her summer dress and slid her damp panties off her slender legs. Her pinched knees fell lax, welcoming him back to her and he gratefully accepted the gift that had been offered. Oliver resumed his place, resting his full weight between them as his mouth found her breasts once more and he couldn't help reveling in the feel of her moist center pressing against his belly.

He feels her fingers dance along his shoulders and he hears her gasp when the tip of his tongue swirled over one of her nipples and he realizes the sounds she makes are one's he just can't do without. Her arms droop down his back, her thighs rising to squeeze him between them. They brush along his ribs and the soft heel of her foot slides down his spine to press into the crevice of his bare buttocks. Two long fingers find her wet entrance once more and Wendy's hips dance beneath him the moment one of them slips inside.

His fingers are thicker than her own and she sighs as they delve and stretch her in the sweetest scissor shape motions along her walls.

Oliver shifts, pulling himself free of her entangling limbs.

"What's wrong?" she says breathily, looking up at him puzzled. She made a move to sit up and close her legs in wonder as to whether he changed his mind, but he shook his head at her and before she knew what was happening, his hands found the backs of her knees, lifting them to topple her backward and double her up by pressing them against her shoulders.

The sight of her bright pink folds, swollen and open to him like a flower, wet after a spring rain is enough to drive him crazy. He knelt down and Wendy could only watch in anticipation as those same torturous bow shaped lips part to encase her sensitive little bundle of nerves between them in a vulgar kiss. Wendy's fingernails claw at the cold wooden floor beneath her as the warm, wetness of his mouth and tongue sucking at her causing her hips to wriggle in a half hearted attempt to escape.

"God… Oli…ver!" she cried, stretching his name out as her hips twisted against his unrelenting assault.

Her scent is heady, intoxicating and it floods his brain as he set to work at her delicate bud. One of her hands found his hair, tugging at the short dark strands. He could feel her trembling, then relaxing as small waves of pleasure washed through her body. Oliver's dark eyes peered up at her taut stomach and through the small valley between her breasts. Her head was thrown back, her chocolate curls undone as they splayed out at either side of her head. He watched as she squirmed and thrashed beneath him. The sense of delicious power that he held over her was gratifying and it wasn't long before he felt her muscles clench against his mouth in impending release.

When Oliver's tongue flattened and ran completely up the length of her sensitive folds, Wendy could only mewl and croon as wave after wave of heat washed through her belly, building and twisting, tightening and wringing her walls in search of release.

But as with all good things that must come to pass, the wet heat of Oliver's mouth eventually disappeared, leaving her bereft and unfulfilled. He let her knees go and immediately Wendy sat up on her elbows, confused and disappointed.

"Don't go yet. Just a bit more…" she panted, the wondrous sensations swimming through the torrent of alcohol running through her veins. "I'm almost there."

"Who said I was going anywhere?" he said darkly and for the first time, the way his thick eyebrows lowered and the firm set of his lips made him seem suddenly very intimidating.

He stood all the way up before her, tall and as naked as the day he was born and sat on the couch behind him. He motioned for her to come to him which she did after a moment and stood in front of him almost cautiously, her arms coming up over her breasts as though she didn't know where else to put them. Her eyes wandered lazily over his skin and when she didn't move, her grabbed her by her upper arms, pulling her down to straddle his lap.

Wendy's stumbled forward, her hands gripping his shoulders for support as his large hands gripped her naked bottom, pulling her closer until her rear rested atop his thighs.

She shuddered involuntarily when his stiff, erect member bumped against the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. It is unfamiliar and alien to her, yet completely natural and he knew she would get used to it with time. He wasted no time and lifted her up just enough to slowly lower her onto the tip of his erection, but no further and to her surprise, he didn't move. She looked down to where they were partially joined and back up into his dark eyes, questioning. He raised a thick eyebrow at her and suddenly she knew that no words necessary. He wanted her to be as much a part of this as he was. She had been hesitant several times tonight. So if she truly wanted it, _she_ would have to be the one to seal the deal.

He held Wendy's gaze, his fingers massaging the soft curves of her hips and bottom, pinching the skin gently as she silently contemplated his offering. But he didn't need to wait long when he felt her slowly, deliberately force herself down onto him, her hips wriggling as she took him inside her inch by glorious inch. His eyes widened with shock then fluttered shut, his lips parting in a low moan as she contracted him around him, squeezing him tight. Wendy let out a small whimper and her arms shot out to wrap tightly around his neck as she buried her face against his chest.

She felt his hands run along her naked back as he waited until she'd adjusted to him and even then it still took all of his will to not just drive into her with agonizing abandon. Just when he thought he couldn't bear being buried so still inside her, he felt her hips experimentally begin to rock. When he opened his eyes, her head had fallen forward, her hair blocking her face from his sight as though she were embarrassed or ashamed.

Oliver heard her gasp as she moved slowly and he felt her small hands flattening against his chest as if there was a small brand inside her warm palm. Her thighs tightened against his and through half lidded eyes, he saw her hips rise just high enough to see his length disappear inside her.

"Stop holding back. No one knows you're here…." he said in a firm tone.

After a moment, Wendy nodded and her hips increased the rhythm of their rocking and her back arched, her eyes closing and her head falling back as Oliver's own hips began to rise to meet her descent. Her walls clamped around him in delight of being filled so deep and completely. It was almost too much. She thought she might die from the pleasure of it.

His mind was sent into a frenzy among the whorl of passion shredding away at his composure bit by bit. She shuddered and he looked up, his eyes lustily raking over her skin, entranced in his victim turned lover. A deep throaty moan escaped his lips and Wendy's gaze met the hungry need in his. She smirked at him, holding his gaze and wrapped her hands around the back of his neck for leverage as she continued to ride him a little slower and gentler then faster and more deliberate.

Then out of nowhere, it felt like he was everywhere at once. She was already extremely aroused and his fingers were driving her wild. Somewhere amongst the midst of it all, she felt the wet heat of his mouth find her breasts and she squeaked, his hands seeking out her hips in a grip that would surely leave bruises. They hurt and she unconsciously pulled at his fingers for a moment, trying to pry them loose, but he refused. A building heat sensation similar to molten rock pooled between her hips as Oliver's breath grew ragged, his large hands impatiently reaching out to aid her in her rise and decent over his lap.

"Mmph!" she mumbled out from the maddening combination of pain and pleasure as he bucked and drove upward into her, the sound of his voice calling out to her somewhere in the dense fog filling her thoughts and threw herself completely into it.

Oliver felt that same fog of pure sin wash over him, his hips rolling and twisting beneath her and he swore under his breath. He feels her thumbs caress the sides of his face and the soft skin behind his ears and a familiar surge of heat boils up from deep in his stomach. His impending release screams at him to be set free and he tries to pry her off before it's too late, but he feels her clasp tightly around his length, her thighs gripping him tighter and it nearly blinds him, his release sending him off into the enveloping fog coiling within his groin.

It was too late to ponder over the consequences of what he'd just done. She couldn't stop herself even if she tried, it was just _too_ _sweet_. Wendy heard him let out a deep throaty moan and she shoved him inside her as far as he would go, her legs buckling each time he hit that joyous spot hidden deep inside, her face pressing into his neck as she also took that eager leap into that very same sensuous fog that had just taken the man beneath her away.

Oliver felt his breath snatched from his lungs, his groan strangled as he saw Wendy arch backward, her hands tightening into little fists in front of her, his hands at her waist the only thing holding her up as her own climax shuddered and clamped around him like a hot wet vice.

"Ah! That's it…." he finally whispered in encouragement, his hands pulling at her wrists to bring her back to him.

Oliver could only stare as Wendy's eyes came back to meet his and his brows furrowed to find them glassy and wet and he idly wondering if she was reverting. But to his surprise, she simply gave him a small smile and leaned against his chest and her lashes fluttered closed against his skin.

A slender arm slid out from beneath the mass of dark brown blankets covering the bed, Wendy's face emerging with it as her squinted eyes looked around the dimly lit bedroom that was so strikingly different from her own. Slowly she pulled herself up to a sitting position and immediately regretted it as the beginning of a headache from her slight hangover made itself known.

She groaned quietly and brushed her disarray of auburn curls out of her eyes to better make sense of her unfamiliar surroundings. Her eyes lazily wandered from her side of the room to the left, her mind scrambling to piece together the scattered puzzle of her memories from the prior night and they immediately bulged when they met the large lump stretched out next to her.

She gasped softly in realization of where she was and what she had done and became filled with a mixture of soothing completion and a little regret. Oliver was lying next to her on his stomach, hugging the pillow to his face while sleeping so heavily that the floor could practically cave in underneath them and he wouldn't even stir. His handsome face was turned in her direction, his short hair astray. He seemed so peaceful and subdued and she took a moment to really look at him. The dark color of his hair accompanied by his strong dark eyebrows made for a wonderful contrast against his almost pale skin. Her eyes traveled down his naked back and the smooth curve of his buttocks peeking shyly out from the tangle of sheets wrapped around his legs.

As though suddenly aware of her nakedness, she quickly pulled the sheets up to cover herself as if he were watching her, despite the fact that he obviously may as well have been a million miles away.

She looked back up at his face and then past him to the clock sitting on the nightstand.

"Oh no... Oh my god… Dr. Thredson, wake up…" she said hurriedly, shaking his shoulder next to him. He didn't stir right away so she shook him again a little harder this time. "Dr. Thredson?"

No response.

"Oliver!"

Finally Oliver's dark brown eyes slid open the tiniest bits and his eyebrows furrowed at the sound of her panicked voice speaking too quickly for his still sleeping brain. "Wake up! I'm late for my class!"

He slowly raised his head up and turned to the nightstand on his side of the bed, grabbing the small round clock and rubbing his eyes to try and make out the time ticking away quietly inside it.

_9:32am_

"Good morning to you too." he drawled, setting it back down.

Oliver felt the bed shake as she quickly scooted to the edge of the bed, dragging his sheets and blankets with her.

"I'm sorry! I just… We need to go." She said, clutching the sheets as she scanned his bedroom floor for her clothes.

Oliver snuck up behind her, stealthily pulling the covers away from her like a monster from the closet. His warm hands pulled her naked body tightly back against his chest and he rested his head against hers. And the memories she had been trying to recall in the past 5 minutes came washing through her from his touch and Wendy smiled softly for a moment then pulled herself free. He let her go, watching her naked back as she went and he reached behind him to grab his cigarettes and silver lighter, lighting one between his lips. She placed a foot on the floor and stopped, turning to him curiously.

"Wait a minute. I just remembered something. Last night… Didn't you say Lana left something for me?"

Oliver looked at her, his expression changing from complacent to hard and somewhat cold. She watched him crawl out of bed and walk to the edge where she sat. Leaning down on one knee next to her, he placed his cigarette between his lips and she felt her face flush hot at his apparent nakedness.

"Close your eyes." he said in a calm, quiet tone, not bothering to look at her as he spoke.

She did as she was told and quickly covered them with one hand.

He reached down under the edge of the bed and her little fingers gripped the edge of the mattress in anticipation of what Lana wanted her to have. Part of her didn't even care what it was, as long as it was from her.

After a moment of fidgeting, she suddenly felt something cold and hard snap around her ankle with a loud clink. Wendy immediately looked down, her smile falling flat at the thick piece of metal around her ankle. Her soft brown eyes went wide and darted back to his dark gaze.

"What is this? I-I don't understand… I have to go home…" she said, confused and wondering if this was some of game. Her brows knit together as she looked down to search his face for an answer. Her leg tugged at the heavy metal chain and found herself horrified to see there was no give to it.

Oliver took a drag of his cigarette and looked up at her, exhaling a thick billow of beautiful white smoke.

"That's just it, Wendy. You are home."

====To be continued…?====


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my twisted imagination.

A/N: This fic is not meant to offend anyone or cause some outrageous revolt. It is simply another product of three options: too much smutty imagination, too much time on my hands to help it thrive.

Pairing: Oliver Thredson/Wendy Peyser.

American Horror Story: Asylum

**Perfect Mistakes**

**Chapter Two**

"Dr. Thredson?" Wendy called out as she sat in the middle of Oliver's bed, her soft brown eyes looking around his quietly lit bedroom.

Every time she thought she heard his light footsteps passing by the door, she would call out his name. But whenever she did, he never appeared. She was afraid. She hadn't seen him since this morning when he'd brought her in a box filled with some of her clothing and other things from her house. She asked him what was going on and where he'd gotten her things, but he told her she would know in time and handed her a plate of eggs and left. She was beginning to panic, in constant fear that he wouldn't be coming back.

She was hungry again, a little frightened, and most of all she was tired of being alone. Her eyes flashed to the nightstand and the clock ticking away.

_6:30pm_

She didn't know what was going on or why he had placed this heavy chain link around her ankle, but she needed him to come back, to help quiet her fears and provide her with some explanation.

Oliver was leaning against the doorframe outside his bedroom door, clad in a long blue robe and white pajama bottoms, his fingers grasping a glass ashtray in one hand and the cigarette he was nursing in the other. The only thing he could focus on all day was her...

And God, the way her wet lips felt around his member.

In fact she was _all_ he could think about and as a result, he had begun to pace slowly up and down the long hallway, puffing anxiously at his increasingly dwindling cigarette. Knowing that she was just on the other side of this door, lying in his bed, was making him crazy.

Several times that day he had thought back to earlier that morning and those five minutes, just before her life had been altered the moment he placed the chain around her ankle, that left him riddled with so many unanswered questions rolling about in his mind. Finally after a long while of pacing, he stopped in front of the door once more and gently pressed his fingertips to the thick cherry wood.

She told him she wanted to forget.

'_Had she thought this was a mistake and wanted to put it all behind her in her rush to leave?'_

No, she slept with him. Of course not without a little encouragement on his part yet she did do it of her own choosing.

'_Have I made a mistake?'_

No, she's _different_… But she's also a constant reminder of everything that had gone completely sour between him and Lana.

_'Should I follow the little nagging voice in the back of my mind and just do away with her already for good and start anew?"_

….

Everything had been so _perfect_. Oliver had been waiting his entire life to experience a night like he and Wendy had shared. He thought Lana would have been the one give it to him once. But she may as well have just been the equivalent to a corpse as she laid there beneath him: stiff, lifeless, and just as unfeeling. He had tried everything and nothing worked. Even as he'd used his fingers and mouth on her that led to the inevitability of a climactic response to his stimulation, still there was nothing.

She wouldn't even look at him...

But not Wendy. She on the other hand had been what he always imagined the lover he never knew could be. She was gentle, curious, and in some ways delightfully naive. And God, her _skin_... was so warm and smooth and so irresistibly inviting. Constantly he thought about how she had laid right next to him all night, letting him run his fingers over her naked back, committing every little freckle and curve to memory, all the way down to the two little dimples at the small of her back. She possessed a natural beauty glowing inside her and for some reason that he couldn't understand, she seemed to try to keep smothering it with ashes when it needed nothing but his encouragement to fan the lightly glowing kindling into a cozy, inviting blaze.

But there was one more thing that stood out to him the most above all else... And that was the fact that not once last night had she been afraid of him.

For a moment, he silently thanked Lana for the "parting gift" she supposedly left behind because it made it that much easier to get her lover to come willingly into his arms. It was like dangling a piece of brightly colored yarn just out of a reach of a tiny kitten and watching her swat away at it, only to finally give it to her and see her excitement turn to disappointment once she realized it wasn't what she thought it would be.

Last night Wendy had made it blatantly clear to him that she did have an interest in men, but she also showed him that it was a side she had not ventured to very often and knowing that secret desire was there made him want her all the more. But somehow he already knew that igniting that small interest in the opposite sex into a full blown bonfire was going to be something else entirely because he had to confess that he wasn't sure where to start. And of course he knew it didn't help by chaining her to his bed. Instead the only purpose it served was to create a massive rift between them that was still very real and no matter what he could think of, he didn't know how to mend it.

After a while his fingers found the round, silver doorknob of their own doing and before he knew it, he had slipped inside. The room was faintly lit from the glow of the small lamps lining the dark cabinets along the far wall. Oliver's eyes drifted across the room, searching her out as he shut the door behind him with a soft click. He could hear her soft breathing, calling his gaze over to his bed. He strode over to the lamp on his nightstand and softly clicked it on. She was curled up like a ball under his blankets aside from one small foot peeking out and the silver hunk of metal latched securely around her ankle. He wanted desperately to remove it, to have her willingly curl into his embrace again like she had last night. But it was too soon. Not to mention that he wasn't sure if this was going to work or what he planned to do with her if it didn't….

The tips of his fingers found the cold, heavy links of the chain and he crouched down next to the bed, letting them travel along it until they found the soft silky underside of her bare foot. His dark eyes closed as he drew timid little circles over the skin with his index finger, thoroughly enjoying the touch that he had been deprived of all day and all his life long. Her foot twitched and Wendy quickly sat up like an alarm clock had just gone off, flipping his dark brown blanket back. She brushed her loose brown curls out of her eyes as she hurriedly scanned the room in a sleepy daze until their eyes met.

"Dr. Thredson!" she said, clearly startled and wondering when she had fallen asleep.

Wendy drew her foot back toward her body and he watched it leave his grasp and scurry back under his blanket. Her eyes followed him as he stood from his crouched position to full height and she leaned back a little, looking his tall towering form up and down as his dark shadow swallowed her up. Oliver watched her body language closely and took a notice of the way she pulled her knees up to her chest, realizing immediately that she was seeking some form of protection and comfort.

"Hello Wendy." he said and smiled softly down to her, responding in a calm tone that he commonly used to address his patients whenever they were teetering along that fine line of calm and collected to flat out hysterical. "Remember, there are no more formalities here. Call me Oliver."

He looked her over and watched her rearrange the short little sun dress he had her change into this morning in attempt to rid herself of her disheveled appearance. He had a mind to tell her that just seeing her wake up in his bed was enough, no matter what she looked like... Her lips parted as though she wanted to say something, but her brown eyes filled with tears and he watched as her face contort into a sob. As the day had drilled on, she too had so many unanswered questions that she wanted to ask now that he was finally here.

"Oliver…" she whimpered and she buried her face in her knees. Nothing else came out, but her mind was scrambling for all the things that she wanted answers to.

'_Was this all a ruse or was this something else?'_

No, it couldn't be. He had been so charming, so understanding, and so _different_ than any other man she had ever met because most of all, he didn't judge her for her relationship with Lana and even encouraged her to put away her fears and venture to the other side to be with him too.

'_Was he really who he said he was?"_

Yes, she had been all to eager to jump in his car. But the mention if Lana's name was all she needed to hear

_'Had he done something to Lana?'_

_..._

No, she didn't want to think about it. She needed to make sense of things first before she ventured into where her mind had been trying to lock her out of all day.

But right now, she couldn't think of any of them or where to even start. He reached out to her and put his hand on her shoulder, but she pulled away from his touch. She pushed the blankets aside and slid to the foot of the bed, stepping out of it as though she were going for the door, but the chain ran out of slack and she stumbled backward, slumping to the hard wood floor in a heap as a reminder that she had nowhere to go.

Oliver calmly strode over to her and sat down on the floor, crossing his legs. He scooted to closer to her side, his thigh pressed against hers like they were schoolyard friends at recess and he took a last drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke fill his lungs and smother the stress of the day. Wendy stiffened at his immediate closeness, but she didn't move away.

"She never loved you…" Oliver told her quietly, his voice still calm and soothing and she looked up at him quickly as though somehow he had been listening to her thoughts and her forehead wrinkled the tiniest bit.

"I just don't understand…. "

"Wendy, she planned to write all about how you were just an asexual fabrication and a "_roommate._"

Wendy pulled her knees to her chest again and stared at her bare feet as she began weep, her russet locks falling into her eyes and face at his words.

"No, no… Shhh…" he said, setting his ashtray down and placing his cigarette in it. He reached for her chin, turning her face to look at him as his thumb wiped at her tears. "Neither of us has to worry about her anymore, now that we have each other."

"Neither of us?" she questioned, sniffling slightly as his hand left her face.

He tucked his hands into his lap, but he didn't say anything right away and looked down at his entwined fingers. The blinding sensation of déjà vu that he had been trying to avoid was staring him uncomfortably in the face and memories of his horrific ordeal with Lana played through his mind ironically like overheated film on a movie reel that inevitably began to burn.

"Oliver, why am I chained up? Why won't you take me home? Tell me what's going on." She asked again, more urgently this time.

Finally he looked up and gave her a small smile. "Well, I've been looking for… a woman for a very, very long time. But not just any woman, I've been looking for my mother."

"Your mother? But I still don't-" she paused, giving way to her confusion and she sighed, taking a moment to collect her thoughts.

"She abandoned me as a child… And recently I thought I'd found her again. I thought she was the one…." He said, looking back down at his lap, shaking his head slightly. "But I realize now that I had the wrong one when you were right under my nose the whole time."

"What do you mean?" she asked quickly, looking into his dark chocolate eyes behind his round eyeglasses, her thin brows furrowing as she searched his face desperately for answers.

"Isn't it obvious? I've been looking for _you_."

Wendy's gaze left his as she contemplated his words and suddenly she shook her head. "No, you've got the wrong person. That's not who I am and could never be." she told him almost icily.

Oliver shrank back. Wendy watched his dark brows lower, his lips set in a firm line and his eyes narrow the tiniest bits. His expression had changed from somewhat lighthearted to almost cold and malicious.

"I don't think you have much of a choice…." he said in a dark tone, his fingers grasping the chain and lifting the metals links to her eyes. "Wouldn't you say?"

"But why me? I can't… I can't do this. I need to go back to my life! I was just starting to get a handle on everything. God, it's been so hard without _her_… Nothing makes any sense. Please, I need to go back to my children. They're all I have left!"

Oliver sat there, slightly taken aback by her sudden outburst. It was so unusual from the Wendy he'd followed around for so long whenever he had the chance, but it was nice to see that such a spark was there.

"I need you here more." he said coldly, his face solemn and almost unfeeling.

"Oliver, I'm not your mother..." she pleaded.

"Biologically, no. But there's just something about you... I admire a strong maternal instinct and you couldn't be a better find. Believe me, I've tried." he responded.

Her lip was trembling and her legs crossed in front of her, the sound of the metal around her ankle dragging loudly against the hardwood floor. She looked down at her lap and began ringing her fingers together and idly tugging the hem of her yellow skirt down around her knees as an indication to her frustration and nervousness.

His hand reached out and grasped one of her hers, pulling it into his lap and entwining his thick fingers with her thin ones.

Oliver watched Wendy closely. She just sat there next to him. He let her be to give her new reality a moment to finally settle in while idly running the pad of his thumb over the soft flexible skin between her index and thumb. She hadn't snatched her hand away from his and he wondered just how much she was considering her fate.

"But my class, my kids... They're just children. They won't understand." Wendy said eventually, breaking the silence as she looked up into his dark brown eyes.

Oliver shifted, putting a long leg behind her and pulled her easily between his legs and back against his chest. His arms came around her to rest in her lap and she looked down at them and the little circled pattern of his blue sleeves. She stiffened slightly when she felt the press of his cheek against her scalp as he rested his head against hers.

"That's just it. They're children Wendy. And most if not all of them will have a mother to go home to… While I didn't. And I expect that you'll miss them at first, but you have to remember that as time goes on, they won't miss you anymore." he explained, his eyes looking down over the top of her head.

"I must admit last night I was testing you. To see if you were still who I thought you'd be. And you proved me right in every way imaginable." he continued with a smile, his gaze trailing up her bare arms and the little yellow strap of her dress that hung loosely off her shoulder.

She didn't respond so he pressed further. "And I know something else too."

Wendy looked up at him.

"I know how much you enjoyed my company last night. Just as much as I enjoyed yours. Lana never appreciated you the way I do. She knew you made a mistake and knew why you had to do it. But if she loved you, she would've waited for you to do the right thing. And _I _never realized how much of a mistake she had been until I found you, but now that's all behind us now and neither of us will have to be alone, not anymore."

Wendy let her gaze fall in her lap. She was hurting because in the back of her mind, she knew it was true. Lana had abandoned her the same way that Lana thought she had done to her. She was truly alone now...

And Oliver was trying to replace Lana with himself.

She felt his fingers slide the little loops of her dress down her arms and slip them into the top, grazing his fingers along her breasts.

He still hadn't told her his full intentions yet, but everything he'd told her was most likely true. He couldn't be lying because he knew too much. But one thing she did know for sure was that he had done what she asked which was to help her forget and right now, his fingers were doing just that. Suddenly he turned Wendy around in his grasp and placed her fingers on the loops of his robe tied at his waist. She looked at him curiously for a moment.

He watched her small fingers eventually tug at the knot of his robe, her fingers working deftly to pull it loose. Her face was but a breath away from his and his hands covered hers to undo the knot, letting the straps fall where they may. Oliver opened the flaps of his robe. His dark eyes stayed glued to her face as he watched her hesitantly at first reach out and feel the skin of his chest just above the collar of his white tank top, smoothing her fingers along the dark, straight hair there. He smiled the tiniest smile as her small fingers began to glide along the cool smooth skin of his lower stomach as though she were examining him for the first time. Last night she had been slightly under the influence, so in a way this was as if it was their first time all over again.

He was so different than what she was used to. There is no starker contrast between a man and a woman, but Oliver was thrilled to see that she still did take a _liking_ those differences. He leaned closer, brushing his lips along her jaw. He let her fingers trail down his skin, letting them walk over the white fabric, feeling his stomach twitch lightly from the ticklish pattern she was making as they danced along until she reached the little white tie of his pajama pants. She paused and he

"You know what you want, Wendy… Why do you fight it?" he whispered and when she didn't respond, he dove in and stole a small quick kiss from her lips.

Her eyes stayed glued to the soft fabric covering his groin, remembering all too well what lay beneath it.

Oliver found himself reaching into his robe pocket, pulling out a little silver key ring with two small keys jangling from the metal loop. She looked up at him with wide eyes and he knew then that he had her attention for sure. He didn't take his eyes off her though as he leaned over slowly, grabbing her ankle and pulling it into his lap. He slid the tiny key into the heavy padlock that held the metal loop together. She watched with wide eyes as it clicked, his thick fingers slipping the padlock off and let the ring of metal clatter heavily to the hardwood floor. Still watching her curiously to see if she would try to bolt, he slid the key back into his pocket and his solemn gaze stayed glued to hers then reached over and took another drag of his cigarette. His fingers immediately rubbed at the slightly irritated skin at her ankle now that it was free, but she didn't move.

Wendy looked back down at where her hands had stopped. She knew what he was waiting for, but she couldn't bring herself to do what his eyes were silently asking of her. Oliver was watching her every move and he titled his head at her, already knowing what was going through her own mind.

"You're fighting again…"

After a long moment, she pulled the ties loose, watching the cloth around his hips loosen. She tugged at them, her eyes widening the tiniest bits when she found he wasn't wearing any underwear beneath his pajamas. Oliver raised the hem of his tank top up just a bit to give her better access.

She reached in and ran her fingers down the skin of his groin, finding his skin warmer the further down she went and she heard him take a sharp intake of breath when they eventually found and encircled the length of his member. Oliver rested his elbow on his raised knee and took another deep drag of his cigarette as he watched contentedly.

He let her continue to do as she wished, letting her take the lead as he had done before to help ease her transition. Lana had never willingly touched him unless she was doing it for her own personal gain so letting Wendy take the lead was all the more important to see if this was really going to work. And even now, Wendy still didn't cease to surprise him because she _was_ touching him yet again of her own free will and Oliver felt his skin spark to life with every gentle dash of her fingertips along his length to every warm brush of her palm over his tum. He felt his breath quicken as her fingers wrapped around him once more.

She gripped him tightly at the base with both hands, feeling his semi-hardened length grow firmer beneath her touch and she scooted down on her elbows between his legs. She felt his cool fingers tuck a stray chocolate lock of hair behind her ear and their eyes met. Oliver nodded to her encouragingly and set his cigarette back down in the ashtray next to them. Her shyness and doubt was killing him because he wanted more than anything to draw the woman that had let herself go completely just last night back out of her.

"I promise it won't bite…" he said to her with a small smirk.

And suddenly Oliver exhaled heavily, the rest of the smoke leaving his lungs and his fingers grasping her hair when he felt the hot, wet trail of her flattened tongue run slowly up the underside, pausing a moment to suck at the sensitive skin found just under the head.

His increasingly hardening length was becoming so hot and red beneath her lips. He tasted clean and smelled faintly of the soap she had used in his bathroom just last night. Oliver's hips twitched when she slid her tongue up along the crease that ran along the underside. She dipped the slippery end of her tongue into the ultra sensitive opening at the tip and felt Oliver's hips buck beneath her this time, a quietly surprised grunt escaping his throat. She took her time, focusing on giving her utmost attention to sucking at the head. It was soft, dark pink and plump and slid easily between her lips once it was wet.

She felt his fingers brush a stray chocolate curl from her face and she glanced up at him only to find his dark eyes still so intently glued on what she was doing that her cheeks flushed red.

"I don't even know if I'm doing this right…" she said quietly below him.

Oliver smiled down at her and she paused as the backs of his fingers brushed along the soft skin of her cheek. "But you do it so beautifully… Besides, I like experimentation because there is no such thing as failure."

He watched Wendy ponder over his words and the uncertainty in her eyes began to fade. He saw her chestnut irises close and his own did the same the moment his length was enveloped in that warm, wet mouth of hers. She sucked at him gently, testing to see what he might like most.

Oliver's eyes quickly opened again, his dark brows knitting together as he watched her, not wanting to miss a minute of what she was doing to him. He watched her head begin to bob, once… twice…

But still she was holding back. She wasn't going at him like she had last night and he frowned, realizing she still didn't believe his words, but it was getting so hard for him to concentrate when her lips and tongue were wrapped so tightly around him.

He sighed, deciding to abandon his own pleasure for the time being to focus on giving her the physical attention he had denied himself and her all day. Perhaps stoking her own desire would be just the thing to drive her ambition. He shifted, his long legs moving to pull himself out from under her but she grabbed onto the hem of his pants tightly and took him entirely into her throat, this time sucking hard in long, languid strokes as she went.

"God, that's it… suck it out." he groaned out, his deep voice echoing throughout the room.

She looked up at him one last time and Oliver almost lost it at the sight of his thick, engorged member disappearing past her lips and those warm, innocent brown pools gazing back up at him.

"Beautiful…" he began in a whisper to her.

But Oliver suddenly toppled backward on his elbow to the floor, his thought lost on him when the sucking of her throat returned full force and his hands grasped her under her arms, pulling her with him. He reclined backward, brushing his short dark hair out of his eyes and laid flat to the floor on his back, his knees raised as Wendy lay curled between his long legs. He grunted and groaned under her delicious assault, the hot friction almost too much for him and he just lay there helpless beneath her, staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom, his mind traveling miles away.

Wendy felt his hips thrust, his large hands twisting into her hair, and his fingers caressing her face and for some reason, she felt a small amount of pride that she was able to render him almost incoherent. She felt his length twitch and jerk as she slid him in and out of her throat, but this time she stopped at the tip, licking and sucking it as her fingers wrapped tightly around the thick shaft. She pumped it by alternating between hard and deliberate to soft and fast and his hips began to rock to the rhythm she made.

He propped himself up on his elbows and looked down to her again, his breath heavy and his eyes dark and filled with lust. She even experimented by swirling her tongue around the tip, gathering up the salty drops of moisture that were collecting there. She continued to lavish her attention there and felt him begin to swell. Her fingers crept lower into his pajamas and ran her fingers along the loose skin of his sac and he let out a deep strangled groan.

"Ahh! Wendy, I'm going to-"

Feeling him tremble beneath her, she made a small sound of alarm at his warning, but this time she took him completely into her throat one last time and pulled back once he spilled into her mouth. His back arched off the floor, panting hard, his hips thrusting almost wildly as he came, spurting hot, thick white jets all over her fingers, giving them an added lubrication that drove him wild. She watched it splatter onto his stomach and his pajama bottoms and didn't stop her ministrations, squeezing him tightly until his writhing display had settled down and he just lay there dazed and spent.

Wendy sat up, licking the remnants of his seed from her hand, remembering the salty flavor from last night and she looked down at him. Oliver was a wreck as he lay over the floor in front of her. His blue robe was splayed out beneath him, his pants twisted low around his hips, and his white undershirt was rolled all the way up to his chest that rose and fell in an attempt to regain the breath that had been stolen from him. Even his face was red and his short dark hair was a mess.

After a moment, Oliver's leaned up on one elbow again and looked down at himself, a wide smile gracing his face and for a moment, Wendy took comfort in that smile. They helped her feel much more at ease about all of this than when his expression was more stoic and cold.

"I've made quite a mess, haven't I? I think your baby needs to be cleaned up." he said quietly to her.

Wendy stiffened at is words then moved closer, grasping his softening member and his hips twitched the tiniest bit.

"Ah… I just came so be gentle."

He watched her nod and her head dip as her tongue laved over his skin. He was still slightly erect and she moved further up to his stomach, cleaning away the last stray white specks away from his skin. Oliver sat up completely, watching her stand and straighten her skirt. His eyes traveled up the smooth skin at the backs of her thighs. He was right in front of her and before she knew what was happening, she felt his palms glide up her thighs and under her skirt. He was quick and before she knew what had happened, his fingers had crept into the band of her underwear, hooking them and pulling them easily down her legs. She moved in surprise, but his hands grabbed her legs tightly and pulled her close. He looked up at her from his seated position on the floor one last time and Wendy watched his face disappear under her skirt and the warmth of his breath and tongue skirt over her nether regions.

She let out a soft gasp, her fingers lightly grasping a fist full of his short, dark hair when his tongue darted out, sliding over the bundle of nerves hidden beneath her folds just before it was enveloped in the warmth of his lips.

He pulled one of her thighs up and rested it on his shoulder. Wendy let out a small cry, her legs beginning to tremble as he set to work on her. It felt as though a flare had just been set off and was burning brightly between her legs each time she felt tongue rub deliberate circles around her flesh.

One of his hands worked their way around her hips and he grasped her bottom tightly to hold her still. His other slid between her thighs and he felt her knees buckle when a long thick middle finger slipped all the way into her, caressing her walls.

She looked back down at the top of his head and thought how evilly persuasive he could be.

"Mhph… Why did you choose me?" she breathed out heavily.

He paused and his face reappeared from under her skirt, his lips somewhat puffy and wet, but his finger inside her didn't stop moving.

"Because even though the chain is off, you're still here."

She didn't say anything and felt his finger withdraw and her muscles continued to contract in search of it.

He stood up and removed his robe, letting it fall to the floor. He was fast and he turned her around, his hands sweeping under her arms and pulling her plain yellow sundress up over her head, excited to see she was still braless from last night. Her arms shot up to cover her naked chest, but he pulled her arms away.

"No, I've been waiting all day to have this prize again." He breathed against her skin.

He pressed himself against her back, his face burying into her neck from behind and when she visibly shivered, he made a mental note of her response. His hands darted around to glide up her flat stomach and over the soft supple skin of her breasts, his cool fingertips squeezing and quickly sliding over her nipples and she felt a tingling sensation ripple straight through to their tips.

She tried to turn around to face him, but he stopped her, roughly turning her back around. A strong hand at the small of her back suddenly pushed her forward to her stomach on his mattress.

Oliver's eyes were trained on her curved, bare bottom and the small space between them. He slipped out of his stained pajama bottoms quickly, the white cloth whispering around his feet. He idly pulled at the hem of his white undershirt as though he was going to remove it, but forgot it altogether in his haste to have her beneath him. He wasted no time and dove toward her on the bed.

"Oliver, wait a minute!" she began.

What was happening? This entire ordeal had been like a blur. Just yesterday she was at her own home, preparing to move out of it and try to forget all about everything that had happened. And now here she was, locked away with a man she'd just met yesterday who had now proclaimed her to be a lover as well his mother. Maybe this was still some sort of game he was playing that he hadn't let her completely in on….

Wendy could feel him crawl over her, straddling her bare bottom. Her eyes widened as she twisted to look back up at him, realizing that he was stiff again. Despite her rational thoughts, the warmth of his thighs and hardened member pressing against her bottom sent a rush of pleasure straight to the aching spot he had created between her legs.

Oliver let his large hands glide up the soft round skin of her buttocks and lower back and Wendy squirmed at the heat being applied. She whimpered and buried her face into his white pillow to hide her embarrassment. Oliver smiled down at her, reaching for the pillow and pulling it away from her. Wendy's face was flushed just as his had been from the way he was making her feel and he couldn't stop himself from being drawn to her innocence even if he tried.

He leaned down, his stomach flush against her back and whispered against her neck, "Your skin… is sensitive here, isn't it?"

The rush of his warm breath against that same little spot on her neck from before sent a strong electrified current through her to her toes.

Before she could respond, Oliver took the opportunity to glide the sensitive skin of his length against the warm, wet space between her thighs then pushed himself inside her entrance. Her heard her let out a muffled cry as he buried himself deep between her wet thighs as far as he can go. His eyes drooped closed as he felt himself become enveloped in her sheath of wet, searing heat. He pushed all the way in and smiled to himself when her bottom was pressed against his hips. Immediately his jaw went slack, his dark brows knitting together and they both let out a soft sigh. Her closed thighs beneath him were giving an added tightness, as if she needed any more.

"Isn't it?" he probed again, his voice dark and this time his fingers grazed the skin of her neck in quick little strokes and her back arched.

"Y-yes…" she finally answered.

As if on cue, his hardened length inside of her was washed in wetness and he smirked at how unbelievably responsive she is. He groaned and his hands at either side of her head beneath him and his hips automatically rocked to the added lubrication The comparison to her and Lana were like fire and ice.

Wendy's fingers fisted into Oliver's dark brown sheets and he slumped over her, his own grasping at her wrists and pinning her beneath him. He took a second to brush the rest of her loose curls to the side and buried his face against the back of her neck, his breath puffing against her skin.

She mewled weakly as he thrust into her quickly, stretching her and creating that familiar hot friction with each stroke. Every breath against her neck was driving her wild and she clamped down around him desperately asking for release.

Oliver grit his teeth, his grunts and groans hissing passed them. God, she felt so good around him. He let go of one of her wrists and sat up slightly, his hips never losing their rhythm. His free hand slipped under jaw and he turned her face back toward him slightly to capture her mouth. She whimpered against his lips and the moment his tongue slid against hers, her back arched and her eyes scrunched tight as it sent her spiraling into her release. Wendy's hips rocked beneath the confines of his straddling legs as she came, her orgasm painfully delicious and just as sinfully sweet.

Becoming lost in the delightful contractions around him, Oliver shuddered above her as she bathed his skin in wetness and felt his own release plow through him like a blast of cold wind. She felt a shiver run through her again as she felt her insides suddenly become washed in heat at his release. He pressed his head to hers and continued to rock inside her slowly until he was completely spent.

He let his hands glide over the skin of her back and buttocks for a moment before he completely rose up, slipping from between her thighs. He turned her over beneath him, pulling her thighs apart by her knees. He lay over her, settling his weight comfortably between them and buried his face into her chest.

Neither said a word and she looked up at Oliver's dark ceiling, listening to his breathing and the feel of his heartbeat against her stomach. She thought over everything that had just transpired and wondered where she had gone wrong. All she had wanted was the gift that Lana left her… How could something so innocent have turned into this? She shifted beneath him and felt the faint throbbing of her ankle where the chain had been a little while ago and she stiffened. The chain….

It was gone.

And no sooner did she realize it was when she heard Oliver's breathing even out into the tell-tale sign of slumber.

Oliver awoke suddenly with a start. He was lying on his side, not realizing he had fallen asleep and he brushed his short dark hair back and out of his eyes. His mind scattered to remember what he was doing prior to and he smiled to himself, feeling himself fill with a sort of completion that he never had.

When he turned over to find the woman that had made it possible, he found the space next to him empty. He sat up in a flash, glancing around the room, but Wendy was nowhere to be found. Immediately Oliver crawled down to the foot of the bed and peered over the edge to see the metal chain cuff still on the floor, unshackled as he'd left it.

He leapt out of bed and snatched his pajama pants on and picked up his glasses from the floor, sliding them over his nose while mentally berating himself for not remembering to put it back on last night.

God, if she had somehow gotten free….

He took off into the hallway, his eyes looking down either side. He darted into each room and swung the doors open wide, checking every closet, every window, anywhere she might hiding or might have tried to escape. He checked them and double checked them to make sure everything was still intact. But still she was nowhere to be found.

He finally burst into the living room, almost spinning as he looked for her desperately.

"Wendy?" he called out.

He stood stock still, listening for any signs of movement or shuffling in the house.

But only silence greeted him back.

====To be Continued====


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my twisted imagination.

A/N: This fic is not meant to offend anyone or cause some outrageous revolt. It is simply another product of three options: too much smutty imagination, too much time on my hands to help it thrive.

Pairing: Oliver Thredson/Wendy Peyser.

American Horror Story: Asylum

Perfect Mistakes – Chapter 3

Oliver sat alone on his living room sofa, his house quiet, empty, as it always had been. And despite his best efforts, always would be. The familiar ache of no longer having another to cling to had returned full force, and this time it was all the more unpleasant as the last. Clad in only the stained pajama bottoms from the prior night, he stared blankly ahead to the coffee table and the half empty bottle of Gin sitting atop it and his glasses to its left. Wendy was free. She had left him behind, just as all the others had done… Just as all the others would _continue_ to do.

He was still and silent, yet his mind was alive and racing wild like the spirit of a lost and desperate gazelle. The many dreadful consequences of what were bound to happen now that she was gone plagued him at first. She had probably decided to skip town to get as far away from him as possible. Or perhaps she went to the police to report him as a kidnapper…

Eventually he decided it didn't matter anymore. If anyone did come to arrest him, he would just be going from one hell hole to the next. Nothing would change except the scenery and as usual, his ever haunting loneliness would be there to keep him company.

But that's when the torturing began. Everywhere he looked, everywhere he went in the house, Wendy had been there. She _was_ his last hope…. Absentmindedly, he looked over to the space on the sofa next to him where just the other day she had sat. The way her soft little fingers felt against his skin, the way she explored his body as if everything about him was something new and absolutely intriguing, while at the same time forbidding him within herself.

Oliver's dark eyes became cold and glassy with unshed tears and he let them drift next to the Gin bottle to the silver handgun that he had purposely been avoiding until now. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he ran his hands through his dark hair in frustration. His eyes remained on the heavy weapon and after a long moment, he reached for it, dragging the cold metal off the glass coffee table. He let his mind wander off of its own will, placing his hand into Wendy's and let her memory take him on the beautiful journey she had led him down one last time. A hot tear fled down his cheek and he pressed the barrel of the loaded handgun to his temple. He was tired, tired of fighting the constantly losing battle to make his life complete.

His eyes scrunched tight, his hand tapping the barrel of the loaded handgun against his temple, his finger choking on the trigger when the sound of his back door leading into the kitchen suddenly opened and shut. Quickly Oliver turned to the kitchen door and watched as it swung open and Wendy walked through it, holding what looked like a peanut butter sandwich. She stopped when their eyes met, her cheek full of sandwich and she dropped her snack, her brown eyes filling with terror.

"Oliver! Oh my god… What are you doing?" she called out as she ran around the sofa, dropping to her knees in front of him.

"Mommy?" Oliver said, dropping the handgun to the floor between his feet as his dark eyes searched her face desperately.

She paused at his name for her and after a long moment, she responded and said "Yes Oliver… Mommy's here….."

She took the weapon, holding it by the handle with two pinched fingers as though she were afraid to touch it and set it down far out of his reach. His eyes lightened as he looked at her and a sense of relief washed through him. She reached up and wiped the stray rivulets of water from his cheeks with her thumbs.

"Oliver… what were you doing with this thing?" she asked, her eyes almost frantically searching his face for understanding.

He looked down into her soft brown eyes. She was still on her knees in front of him and her expression was worried and concerned. She cupped his cheeks with her hands and finished wiping his face with her thumbs. Oliver felt a strange sort of tranquility beginning to replace the profound sadness that had been constantly afflicting his mind since he could remember. He continued to watch her, thinking of the way she had run over to him like a mother would her child who had accidently fallen down and she was here, offering comfort and wiping the pain away.

"I don't know…" he finally responded. "I… I thought you left me."

"What? I've been here the whole time, I promise." Wendy told him. She leaned up and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying his face against her own neck and ran her fingers through his short, dark hair. Wendy's mind ran rampant over what she had just caught him doing. God, if she had been just a few seconds too late…

She was quickly learning that Oliver was a confused and divided man. Estranged if you would. But more so confused than anything else most of the time. He was lost…. And his attachment had become cumbersome and overwhelming. No – It was more than that. Was it love? Obsession? Infatuation?

They both stayed quiet for a moment and she just held him to her when she began to speak.

"While I was standing on the porch, looking out into the morning mist that was covering the ground outside, I couldn't help noticing the way that dense fog seemed to be leading a pathway into the woods behind this house… Away from here. And as I began to follow that white cloud of mist drifting past my feet and off into the trees as though it were calling to me, something told me stop."

Oliver's brows furrowed, but he didn't say anything and just stayed still in her arms as he listened to her tell her story as though she were reading from a book to her class.

"I looked out into the thick of those woods and realized I was about to walk into yet another place that held nothing left for me, just like my old house… _Our_ old house that Lana and I once shared." she continued. "I've never been truly alone before until now, when you've been alone your entire life. I've always had Lana… my children at the school… and a small group of friends. And the more I thought about it, you've only had your patients to care for, but no one was ever there to care for you. And loneliness in a crowd of people is the worst kind of loneliness one could ever imagine…."

Oliver was speechless and he pulled back to look into her eyes. It seemed as though every day, she found some new way to show him that he had in fact found the _one_. And he also realized that his own carelessness almost caused him to lose her just that quick.

Suddenly he gripped her arms roughly and pushed her back away from him.

"Tell me something, Wendy…" he asked, his expression becoming firm and almost cold. "Do you believe in fate?"

She looked up at him, her expression quickly becoming confused and she winced as his grip on her upper arms grew almost painful. "Yes."

"You _were_ planning on leaving me weren't you? Just like all the others…." he questioned, his tone low and accusing.

Wendy frowned, her lip beginning to tremble at the sudden shift in his mood. She twisted a little. His grip on her arms was beginning to hurt.

"Weren't you?" he questioned again more harshly, his lips forming into a thin line. She nodded.

"At first I thought I would go crazy, knowing that you left me." his eyes darted over to the gun and back to her. "I thought about all the mistakes I was continuing to make time and time again, like a vicious never ending cycle. Until I realized that this wasn't my mistake…. It was _yours _the moment you walked outside."

Wendy's eyes grew wide.

"I should have never unchained you in the first place… A mistake I have also made. And will never make again…" he said darkly and stood from the couch, dragging her up with him roughly.

And when he began to drag her down the hallway, she resisted, sliding down to her knees like a toddler throwing a tantrum. "Wait! PLEASE! I don't want to go back to the chain!" she cried out, fresh tears forming in her eyes as Oliver wrangled her up from the floor.

"You can't be trusted… Not yet…" he told her.

Her hands reached out and grasped the edge of the wall as they turned around the corner and Oliver crawled down over her, his stronger hands snatching her fingers from the wall and she wailed as Oliver grabbed her by ankles and dragged her down his long hallway.

"Oliver, stop!" she cried. "Not the chain, please… Don't do this! _I came back_!"

He kicked his bedroom door open with his foot and Wendy grabbed onto the door frame as he pulled her through it.

"Yes you did, but we can't have these momentary lapses in judgment, now can we?"

Her legs pulled and flopped about until they slipped from his grasp and Wendy pushed herself up from the floor, but she didn't get far when Oliver grabbed her around the waist, pulling her back against his larger frame and lifting her off the floor.

"Wendy, stop this!" he said against her ear as she twisted about. "You of all people should know that a mother should never even think once of abandoning her children."

She wriggled around in his arms, her feet unable to reach the floor as Oliver brought her back into his bedroom. He kicked the door closed with a loud bang behind them and lowered her to the floor at the end of the bed. Wendy said nothing and backed up against the bed, her face stained with fresh tears as she stared up directly into his dark eyes in fear.

"STOP! It's only for a little while…. " He said angrily at her defiance and pulled away from her.

"How long is a little while?" she said softly, sniffling.

"That all depends on you." He responded and she watched him get up and walk over to one of the dark cabinets along his bedroom wall and reach in, pulling out a clear vial and a long syringe.

The sudden reality of who Oliver actually is had finally settled in over the past few minutes of her coming back through that door, despite how much she tried to ignore its truth. _This_ is how things were going to be.

"This isn't right." she pleaded as the fight in her slowly began to return. "It shouldn't have to be this way, Oliver!"

"And what would you do, Wendy? Go back to that empty house? Back to the memories of when you locked Lana away in that shit hole Asylum, never to be seen again?" he said, his back still turned to her as he worked diligently to prepare the medication cocktail. His own frustration with her rebelliousness was beginning to irk him way more than it should. "Or would you go back to the friends who convinced you that your terrible actions were justified for the time being until you could get your head back together?"

Wendy blanched. His abrupt and direct statements were bringing the horrible reality of her misdeeds crashing back down around her.

"They don't seem much like someone you should call a _friend_ to me. And if they're capable of that… what makes you think they wouldn't do the same thing to you if it came down to it?" he added, inserting the needle into the round rubber cap of the vial and turned it upside, extracting the fluid. But Wendy stayed silent. "It's time to face facts. I'm all you have now… And life without me would be even more unbearable."

She began to cry again and Oliver sighed. "Relax… It's only a little Valium. It will help to put you at ease."

He finally turned in her direction, the long syringe held up for her to see.

"W-wait… Oliver… Please." she said desperately, scooting backward a bit. "I'll put the chain back on… just please, don't put me out…."

The idea of being aware, but not aware of what was going on while she was secluded away in his home was frightening her to no end. Oliver was showing her a side of him that she'd never even glimpsed before. She quickly reached under the corner of his bed and pulled the chain from its hiding place and proceeded to clamp it around her ankle then slid the heavy padlock into the hook to secure it. Oliver smiled a tiny smile as he watched her attempts to prove to him that nothing had changed.

He strode over to her quickly, placing the barrel of the syringe between his teeth as he crawled down and straddled her waist. She was beginning to panic and his hands wrestled up her suddenly flailing arms, pressing them down flat to the floor and placing the weight of his knees on them to hold them in place. He tapped the syringe with a finger then pushed the plunger with his thumb and let the liquid squirt from the needle.

But when his eyes returned to her face, he stopped. Wendy was looking at him with the same emotion he had previously prided himself on that she had never wore with him until now: a look of terror.

Oliver lowered the needle to the floor, his face changing from firm and aggressive to calm and placid and he shifted, sliding down her body to give her arms the much needed relief of being pressed under his knees. She was visibly shaking, but she didn't move.

"Alright. I won't put you out…" he sighed heavily and reached up toward her face and he frowned when she flinched. He wiped a stray tear from her cheek in a similar fashion that she had done to him just moments ago.

"Oliver…" he heard her say quietly as he peered down at her from his straddled position.

"Yes?" he said and reached up to brush her disheveled brown hair out of her eyes and was comforted in the fact that this time, she didn't jerk away.

"You frighten me…." she said, her voice weak and shaky and filled with despair.

He smiled a tiny smile and gave her a look of knowing regret. "I'm frightened of myself."

She just blinked and watched Oliver stand up completely, towering over her as she stared up at him from the floor. He knelt down and carefully scooped her up over his shoulder. She offered no resistance this time and let him lower her onto his bed, the sound of the chain around her ankle clinking as she moved to lay down, pulling her knees up to her chest in a habit he noticed her doing more and more lately for comfort.

He was going to break her in the worst way if this kept up. And what's worse, she could even revert and become filled with hatred and terror the same way Lana had once done to him. But if anything else, Oliver knew he was tenacious and as a trained psychiatrist, he had to trust his instincts. For both of them. His own faltered judgment earlier had been rash and he had to admit that he had allowed his weaker half to become dominant. And as a result, had almost cost him his life. And what's worse, he would have taken her from himself all of his own doing.

He needed to get her to calm down. She had done the same to him at one point; the least he could do was return the gesture. He paced around the foot of the bed several times, giving her some much needed space and some time for himself to also think things through. His expression became thoughtful for a moment as he looked down at her and eventually he climbed into bed behind her. Wendy said not a word when she felt his warm fingers brush several loose brown locks from the side of her face and that same arm dart around her waist and pull her back tightly against his chest. He laid his cheek against hers and felt her continued tremors beneath him.

"Perhaps we should calm you by a more natural means…. Earlier you mentioned me and my patients. Psychology is a very complex and flexible yet, at the same time, inflexible thing. At some point in our lives, we all find ourselves teetering along that very fine line that keeps sanity and insanity divided. For some, we are able to pull back from that edge while others who find themselves trapped in a present time that is unstable, leading them to such things as the obvious hysteria you are expressing now…." he said, keeping his voice calm and quiet and after a moment, he felt Wendy beginning to relax.

"Eventually the natural response is to withdraw from that reality, but we certainly can't have that, now can we?" Wendy remained quiet, her mind rolling his light evaluation of her around in her head.

"Did you know that in the Victorian era, a means of treatment for hysteria was through the use of masturbation for women?" he asked her idly and slowly as his fingers found the hem of her little brown skirt and crept up underneath it, quickly pushing aside her panties. "But sadly, some men also believed that it was forbidden for women to manipulate themselves in fear that they would no longer be needed and thus, many of them went untreated."

Wendy turned and looked up into Oliver's eyes and he looked back at her with a mischievous yet dark expression as his fingertips slid along the smooth skin of her nether regions, grazing his fingers over that tiny little bud of nerves he was beginning know all too well.

When her thighs tightened around his hand, his tone became hard and cold and he quietly told her. "The good doctor knows what's best for his patients… You wouldn't want to go against his orders, would you?"

Her hips jerked the slightest bits from the stimulation of his fingers and he began to run them over it more deliberately to coax that little nub from its hiding place. But he didn't linger long enough and instead reached for her hand and guided it to where his own hand had just been. His head dipped and he captured the softness of her lips. His tongue slipped immediately inside and he swelled with a strange sort of excitement when she let out a soft sigh against his lips as his fingers crept over hers and went back to that sensitive little spot once more. She could taste the heady flavor of the Gin he was drinking earlier still lingering on his tongue.

"They really had no idea what they were missing out on…." he whispered against her lips when her eyes drifted closed at the sensation and rush of warmth flooded to the space between her thighs.

His fingers traded places with her and guided her own fingers into picking up where his own left off and she looked up at him with a bit of uncertainty. He had never prompted her into masturbating in front of him and one of his knees slipped between her thighs and lifted it, draping her thigh over his own to spread her completely open.

He nodded to her in encouragement and his lips returned to lay claim to hers once more. He felt her body completely relax against him and he peeked down to see her begin to carefully circle that tiny little button all on her own.

Her head fell back, breaking the kiss as a soft gasp escaped her lips and Oliver let his dark, troubled eyes drift down her smaller frame as he looked down over her shoulder to their hands working between her legs. Wendy felt his hand leave hers and travel up to unbutton her little white blouse slowly, one button at a time until he'd freed her breasts from their hiding place. She whimpered quietly as his thick fingers began to roll her nipple between them before squeezing it and tugging gently as she drew a swirling pattern over that swelling button beneath the pad of her middle finger. His hand was so warm… She sat up a moment and let him pull the blouse the rest of the way off and drop it to the floor and lay back down next to him.

His lips followed them soon after, enveloping them within the wet, warm confines of his mouth while that same traveling hand crept along the flat skin of her belly and found her other breast, squeezing it in his palm. It seemed no matter what, he couldn't deny the fact that even though her breasts were smaller, it was riveting how well they fit so perfectly to his palm. He noticed her hips were beginning to rock against her fingers and his hand slid back down where her finger was anxiously at work and slipped a long thick digit inside her increasingly aching passage. Immediately she moaned and looked down at their hands, her walls soaking his finger completely and clenching around it as it slid out of her. He brought his fingers up to her lips in offering and she snorted at the perversion of it, but she took the offering nonetheless, suckling the clear fluid from his fingers. She had never tasted herself before. It was an odd tangy flavor, not good, but also not bad either.

Her fingers continued to work between her thighs and she moaned in frustration because eventually she knew her own fingers weren't enough. At least not since he came along. She had never told him, but the reason she was reluctant to do this wasn't because she was afraid, but more so because she found herself preferring his fingers over her own. They were longer, thicker, and _incredibly_ nimble.

"I can't treat you if you're not willing to give your needs a voice…" he said quietly and she looked back at his almost hardened stare as he shifted and crawled over her. His lips planted several small kisses down her belly, her navel, and lower still as he slid easily down between her still open legs.

Oliver removed her hands, exposing her pink, wet folds to his dark eyes and immediately he dragged his tongue over the swollen, aching bundle of nerves. He couldn't deny that he liked seeing her this way, open and bared before him. The way she seemed to be almost dripping right in front of his face. It made his mouth water and almost salivate. He dove back down once more and Wendy bucked against his face, her brows furrowing when he enveloped her folds between his lips, his tongue swirling and dancing over her sensitive, wet flesh. She cried out as his lips chased her wriggling hips while the sensation of that slippery wet tongue of his molded completely against her in one long lick, then dipped experimentally into the quivering opening inside her.

Wendy propped herself up on her elbows and looked down at his handsome face, her mouth open as she panted heavily from his ministrations. His dark eyes opened, looking up directly into her own from between her legs and he cocked a dark, thick eyebrow at her before his eyes drifted closed once more.

What was she doing? Her eyes flitted down to the chain around her ankle and back at the man who just moment's ago had threatened to put her under sedation. She had her chance at freedom… And it was gone. Perhaps forever.

She whimpered and moaned as his assault increased and she swore she could feel him smile against her skin. Her legs hooked around his naked shoulders and he inserted his tongue into her one more time, feeling her quiver around it followed by a weak cry. He felt her inner folds quaking against his mouth as he dragged his tongue up over the swollen flesh of her nether regions, sucking at the folds of soft sensitive skin. One of his hands traveled up her belly and began to massage and pluck one of her nipples while he continued to lay a full assault on her core. Oliver felt a flood of heat rush to his groin as her hips bucked and twisted and he grasped them, pinning her down effectively by strong hands and Wendy stiffened as the tip of his tongue flicked over her baby soft button several times more. Her thighs suddenly snapped around his head and neck as he toppled her over into a trembling, devastating release.

Oliver felt her walls clenching against his mouth and he held her thighs tightly as a rush of warmth and wetness coated his tongue as she came, jerking, whimpering and cooing his name incoherently. She gripped his dark hair, pulling at the thick strands as her mind exploded in a cloud of nothingness.

Her hips continued to twist and jerk lightly as her release began to settle down. He slid his tongue over her one more time before giving the smooth skin of her mound a soft kiss.

"Oliver…." she finally whispered, almost speechless when he released his grip on her legs and sat up.

"Were you really going to do it?" she asked breathlessly as she stared up at the ceiling.

Oliver's eyes, still somewhat red and puffy from his earlier tears, looked up and she stiffened as his stoic expression shifted into a hardened stare once more. He didn't say anything and turned his back to her, crossing his legs atop the bed and sighed. He ran his fingers through his dark, disheveled hair. He didn't want to talk about this now and began to ponder over where he'd left his pack of cigarettes, longing desperately to inhale those toxic fumes that brought him so much peace.

The clinking chain around her ankle spoke volumes as Wendy crawled up behind him and placed her palm lightly on his shoulder. She already knew what the answer was. And she also knew he would probably do it again if given the chance… It was only a matter of time. Her career as a teacher had come to an abrupt and forcefully unwelcome end and she knew that she was powerless to stop it now. And since Lana was gone too, she really didn't have anyone else and even if she did, he had ensured that she would never see them again.

"You can't leave me behind…." she told him and after a moment's hesitation, Oliver felt her arms slip under his own arms and wrap around his chest, pressing her naked chest against his back. Her lips pressed against the side of his face.

"I know you don't really mean that. No one ever does." he responded with a bit more spitefulness than he meant to.

Wendy paused and looked down over his shoulder. He _was_ all she he had now. Not as if Oliver had given her much of a choice from the start. Since she'd arrived at his home, he had been inadvertently filling that void of emptiness and loneliness that she knew he shouldn't be filling, but somehow he managed to do it anyway. The sensation of dread she had been feeling since the moment she signed those papers authorizing Lana's confinement was slowly beginning to fade regardless of the fact that it was often being replaced by fear. But it seemed the calmer he was, the more she was able to relax and the more she capable of keeping that same fear at bay.

She leaned closer and pressed her cheek to his, her warm palms sliding over the flattened contours of his chest that she still found to be so different from what she was normally used to no matter how many times she touched him. "Oliver… Solitude is fine, but you need someone to tell that solitude is fine. In fact, we both do."

She kissed his jaw slowly and began to work her way to his chin, his lips. Oliver didn't move, his mind still wrapped around what he'd intended to do before she walked in and caught him.

Wendy crept forward and slid into his lap. His expression was solemn and subdued. She kissed the other side of his smooth jaw, working her way down until she captured his lips. Only then did he look at her, the softness of her lips pressing delicately against his own. He felt her fingers work their way down his neck and chest, stopping then to run the smooth dark hair she found there through her fingers. Oliver's breath grew heavy as he watched her, feeling her fingers, her lips traveling along his skin and the soft pads of her fingers dancing over his quickly hardening nipples.

Slowly she pushed him down to his back on the bed and crept over him. "Let me have what _I_ want this time…" she said quietly, her fingers seeking out and almost clumsily working the ties to his pajama bottoms loose.

"Then show me how much you need me." he told her.

He was quiet, but his skin was beginning to ignite with each light brush of her fingers and lips. Wendy scooted down and tugged his pants down, his hips shifting the slightest bits in an offering of assistance. She dropped them to the floor next the bed and Oliver felt a rush of heat travel straight to his groin when the cool air of his bedroom swept over his increasingly hardened shaft. Her little fingers wrapped around the base of him tightly while she ran her fingertip along the hypersensitive skin just under the red, swollen tip. Oliver watched that finger dance around the head and massaged between her thumb and index finger. His hips bucked lightly and Wendy dipped her head down and ran her tongue along the slit found there, swiping away the little drop that was collecting there with her.

Oliver sighed, his eyes drifting closed and a small moan escaped his lips as Wendy's head began to bob, enveloping the head of his shaft inside the wet, warm cavern of her mouth. Her tongue swirled and her lips sucked at it, tugging the smooth, hot skin each time she worked her way up. Wendy slid closer between his legs, pushing them farther apart to make room for herself between them. Her other hand ran through the dark straight hair at the base of his shaft, massaging the soft pliant skin there and Oliver felt a tingling sensation creep up his back. Her fingers continued to drift lower, caressing the ever sensitive skin of his sac and he moaned out loud when her fingers began to caress them as her lips and tongue worked over the head of shaft.

His mind drifted off into a daze and he wondered how he had gotten along all of this time without her. Wendy's fingers drifted lower still, abandoning his sac and he felt her exploring and curious fingers travel to the smooth narrow section of skin below it and caressed it carefully. Oliver's eyes shot open, his hips jerking as a sudden tingling sensation shot straight through his hardened shaft and to the tip still buried between her lips. She paused, watching his reaction, almost intrigued. He groaned, his head falling back when she did it again, applying a bit more pressure. But he just couldn't take his eyes off her.

His hips twisted again, pushing his member further into her mouth and he felt himself growing increasingly hard beneath her fingers with each caress of her hand against that sinfully sweet spot she'd just found.

"Christ, don't stop…" he groaned out.

Her fingers began to pump his shaft quickly while she sucked at that plump, dripping tip. Oliver's large hands twisted into the sheets, his eyes screwing shut and his head snapped backward as his sudden, unexpected release sent what felt like an electric storm through his brain. Wendy gasped in surprised and his hips rose up off the bed, his shaft squirting thick white jets into her mouth and all over her lips and breasts.

After a long moment, Oliver's twisting and thrusting began to taper down and slowly he opened his eyes, lightheaded and faintly dizzy. He just lay there lazily, watching his bedroom ceiling twirl and spin around his vision. He felt the flat of Wendy's tongue travel up along the length of his softening member lying against his lower stomach, swiping away any stray remnants of his explosive release from his skin. Wendy crept up the length of his torso and his eyes drifted to hers. His face was flushed red and the contrasting color spread all the way down his neck and chest like a burst of heat had occurred beneath his skin.

Slowly his eyes found hers as she peered down at him and startled when she felt a hand slip between her thighs and a pair of thick fingers gliding passed her white panties and over her still wet slit. They quickly dipped inside, massaging the walls of her inner folds and stroking that hidden spot within that had gone untouched until now. She buckled as he did it and her hand found the length of his member once more, massaging it gently. Oliver's hips jerked a bit, the sensitivity still very fresh from his earlier release, but the ache from their previous explorations of each other still had his mind ensnared and left him aching for her, becoming a slave to the task at hand.

Oliver looked up at Wendy next to him, her hand still massaging his shaft and he finally smiled lightly as he looked at her. Her brown eyes were closed and her mouth open in a silent 'O' as his fingers worked against that spot that he knew drove her wild. Her cheeks were flushed and her nipples pebbled into little hardened buds. Her brows began to furrow and she whimpered as the building sensation of pleasure began to pool around his fingers.

"It would be such a shame to let this much wetness go to waste…" he told her in a low, husky voice and began to stroke it quickly.

Wendy cried out, her hand around his shaft going completely still. Her breath grew ragged as he worked her and suddenly she slid out of his reach before it was too late and fell prey to his unsuspecting attack. The space between her hips was beginning to burn and ache and her eyes drifted to his growing member standing proudly between his legs. She slid off the large bed a moment and he propped himself up to watch her curiously. Wendy stood and unzipped her brown skirt then tossed it to the side. Her underwear, the last piece of clothing still attached to her body followed next, but she frowned when she realized she couldn't take them all the way off because of the chain still around her ankle.

Oliver saw the flash of confusion and slight frustration flash over her face when she looked down at it and quickly he rose up, crawling down to the edge of the bed. He grasped the thin cloth with his hands, finding the stitching and aggressively pulling it, tearing the flimsy material in two and let it fall away completely. Before he could reach out for her, Wendy slid next to him and eased him back down with her hands. She crawled over and straddled his hips, turning her naked back to him and he watched as she eagerly gripped his length within her fingers and guided him inside her wet, dripping heat in one quick thrust.

They both let out a quiet sigh and Wendy leaned forward with no encouragement and began to rock her hips over him in long strokes that were deliberate and just as quick. Oliver groaned out at the sight of her sliding up and down over is length. The view she had gifted him with was so lewd in its own right that he couldn't place it into words even if he wanted to. And the way she was squeezing and soaking him so desperately was enough to His hands grasped onto her round naked bottom, squeezing the flesh in his hands as she moved.

"Wendy…" he chuffed out, his hips rising to meet her own. "You do realize that I could never let you go?"

Wendy didn't respond right away, her mind was too busy swimming through the delectably warm, pleasurable filling sensation of him buried between her thighs.

His hips jerked upward, brushing against that overworked spot deep inside her and she cried out, falling completely backward against him. His arms wrapped around her waist tightly as he thrust upward into her with an almost wild abandon as she panted and sighed against his face. Her hands shot up, grasping and squeezing her breasts and Oliver pressed his face into the back of her neck, breathing warm puffs of air against that sensitive spot he adored so much.

"God!" she cried out as he drove into her several more times, her walls tightening around him, signaling her impending release.

Wendy stiffened, her hands grabbing his strong arms wrapped tightly at her waist as he forced her, clawing and mewling, over the edge.

Oliver's dark, thick brows furrowed as her walls suddenly closed impossibly tight around him, ripping his breath from his lungs and following her descent. His back arched as he came, lifting her with him as his hands forced her down to make her accept him as far as he would go while they rode out the last of their release together.

After a long moment, he slid her down to the bed beside him and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her tightly against him. He rested his head on the soft, warm mound of her breast and inhaling the scent of her skin, making a mental note to remember to give her her own soap so she didn't smell like his all the time. Her fingers wound their way into his short, dark hair, her nails running lightly along his scalp and he smiled lightly as a small shiver ran down his back from the touch.

Wendy awoke to the sound of something rustling about. She slowly sat up, blinking as she looked around the room to find Oliver sitting on the floor next to the bed with his back to her. She sat up and peered down to see what he was doing then gasped at the realization that she was still very nude and completely uncovered while she slept.

Oliver turned at the sound of her surprise and smiled as he watched her scramble to cover herself and he looked at her in wonder as to why she even bothered. She peered down at him again once she was covered and noticed his dark hair was wet and shone in the lamplight on the nightstand from where he had showered. She noticed he had also changed clothes and was wearing a fresh white tank and a pair of black slacks. He turned around completely and placed the wide brown box he was just sifting through between his long legs. Her brows furrowed at the familiarity of the box when he turned it around and realized it had a scribbling of permanent marker on it.

'Lana and Wendy's memories'

Her eyes grew wistful with them wondering when he managed to obtain all of her things. He was with her constantly.

"Here it is…" he said almost cheerfully and reached in, pulling out what looked like a picture frame and handed it up to her.

Oliver watched her closely as she took it, setting the box aside and curling his legs in to rest his elbows atop his knees and propping his head in hands as he stared up with that same big boyish smile.

"I thought you might want it…" Oliver told her.

Wendy held the dark brown sheets to her chest as her soft chocolate eyes widened and immediately filled with tears the moment she looked down at the image. It was the picture of her standing in front of her classroom of third graders. Her eyes scanned over their faces, each of their names drifting through her memory one by one. She felt a small tear slide down her cheek and onto the glass covering the picture, knowing that she would in fact never see any of their faces again.

====To be Continued====


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my twisted imagination.

A/N: This fic is not meant to offend anyone or cause some outrageous revolt. It is simply another product of three options: too much smutty imagination, too much time on my hands to help it thrive.

Pairing: Oliver Thredson/Wendy Peyser.

American Horror Story: Asylum

Perfect Mistakes

Chapter Four

For Wendy, time was passing like a freight train that she couldn't seem to get off of. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into a month, and a month turned into two. Wendy could do nothing but sit and watch as everything she once knew and loved zipped right passed her in a blur, never to be seen again. And with each day and each week, Oliver's trust in her began to blossom little by little. He allowed her less time chained to his bed when he was home and eventually gave her more freedom to wander about his house as well while he was away or at work. Of course not before sealing anything and everything that could be made into a weapon or a makeshift escape tool away. She had never tried to physically harm him and her half-hearted escape attempt last time was foiled by her own doing. But after his recent track record of painful experiences with Lana in the past, a slim possibility was more than enough reason to do so. Spending a night nursing that open gash on his cheek after she hit him with Wendy's own picture wasn't exactly his idea of reminiscing about the intimacy they had shared. Wendy was still very different, but then again… anything is possible.

A pair of dark brown eyes slowly crept open from the entrapment of sleep to glare directly at the round, white face of the small alarm clock sitting on the nightstand next to the bed.

_7:32 am_

He was about to be late… _again_. Oliver shifted on his stomach, feeling a weight pressed against his back and he turned, finding Wendy lying Galway over him and the feel of her hand strewn through his dark hair. He smiled to himself at the fact that she was a messy sleeper. She was becoming all the more comfortable around him lately and it seemed everyday he was learning something new about her. He rose up slowly, pulling himself from beneath her and climbed out of bed. He looked back to see her turn over in her sleep and watched his dark brown sheets slip down and expose her breasts to his eyes as she stretched like a housecat then curled on her side into a small ball. He longed to crawl back in bed and curl up behind her. Unfortunately there was no more time, but knowing that she would be waiting for him upon his return from work always helped to soften the blow of having to leave her behind. After lingering long enough, Oliver quickly made his way toward the bathroom, not before snatching the failed alarm clock off the nightstand and dropping it into a small trashcan next to the bed as he went.

The bathroom door clicked closed and Wendy's brown eyes opened the tiniest bits at the increasing lack of warmth. She turned, realizing that the bed was now empty and quickly looked around Oliver's bedroom, feeling a sense of increasing distress from the sudden change from the norm.

When he awoke, she awoke. When he went to bed, she went to bed. Since the day he first brought her here as his captive, they were never far from each other's sight. It was unusual for him to awaken and disappear, nonetheless leave entirely without her knowing. The sound of the shower nozzle squeaking with the twist of it being turned on in the bathroom drew her gaze towards the door across the room and immediately she began to relax knowing she wasn't alone.

Slowly she pushed herself up to a sitting position to crawl out of bed and the moment she did, she _instantly_ regretted it. What felt like a wave of nausea washed through her and her eyes widened. She gagged and looked toward the bathroom again that Oliver was currently occupying. A bubbling of hot bile rose once more, faster and more abrupt than the first one. Quickly she clambered her way clumsily out of bed, tripping over the tangle of sheets she was in and thankful that the chain usually found on her ankle was absent. A hand clamped over her mouth as she ran full speed into the kitchen and thrust her face into the wastebasket, regurgitating her stomach contents into it.

She slumped over to her knees and gazed down into the trash can and her ebony eyes scanned the transformed remains of last night's dinner within it. She frowned in confusion at the colorful mixture of goop looking back into her eyes. This was becoming a common occurrence lately... It wasn't so bad at first, but as time progressed, it only got worse. At first, she thought it may have just been something she ate but then she immediately pushed the thought aside because normally anything Oliver made for her to eat would often taste better than what she used to make on her own. This was the second month she'd missed her cycle. She thought perhaps it was the stress of everything occurring recently, but now it had gotten to the point that she couldn't avoid it any longer because no matter how much she denied it, she knew exactly what this was…

She was pregnant.

Wendy clutched her midsection, swallowing continuously in an attempt to push the constant build up of saliva and the increasingly overwhelming sickness back, but her belly didn't appear to be listening and she doubled over the wastebasket once more. After another debilitating dry heave and a moan, she heard a deep familiar voice call out her name and she quickly pulled herself up to the kitchen sink and turned the knob to let the water flow while she rinsed her mouth clean. Oliver was getting closer as he called her and she scurried to shove the soiled trash can inside the pantry and shut it. She turned around just as Oliver strode through the kitchen door.

"Wend-" Oliver said as he came in and paused in his step when his eyes met hers.

She was looking up at him with a rather distressed expression, but what was even more startling was that she wore nothing except the pair of pink panties she slept in last night. He tilted his head at her curiously and gave her a small smile.

"Well, isn't this a surprise?" he told her, his dark eyes drinking in her skin and took note that it seemed to be a bit paler than usual.

Wendy looked him over as he began to approach her. He was almost completely dressed for work aside for his suit jacket.

He reached down and grasped her smaller hand in his. Oliver looked her over carefully, noting her apparent nervousness and felt her shaking lightly in his grasp. He pulled her closer and she awkwardly attempted to cover herself with her free arm, but he pulled her hand away and leaned closer, looking into her warm brown eyes. After hesitating for a moment, he then pressed his forehead to hers and when he dipped down to capture her lips, Wendy slipped out of his close proximity and slid passed him. Oliver turned on his heel, jerking her backward by her hand still held captive in his.

"And why are we suddenly so shy?" he asked, his voice low as he pulled flush against him.

"I-I'm not... I just don't feel like myself today." she said and gave him a small, weak smile.

"You should know by now that reading people is what I do best. You're in my kitchen with barely a stitch of clothing and yet that seems to be the least of your concerns. As a matter of fact, the sheer contrast of it practically screams that you're hiding something from me…" he told her and looked directly in her eyes as he observed her quietly to gauge what was storming around inside her mind.

She kept her eyes downcast as though she couldn't meet his gaze, to let him see the truth. Instead she reached up and began to straighten the Windsor knot of his red and grey patterned tie that was crooked in his haste to dress this morning as she spoke. "Well, Oliver, I'll be here when you get back… you're patients on the other hand may not."

She continued to work and made a tiny sound of frustration when the knot didn't seem to want to cooperate with her attempts at correction and he watched her smaller hands pull the knot loose and re-loop the neck tie altogether. It was strange that among all of the intimate encounters they'd shared, it was always the simplest of gestures she made toward him, though few, that would stand out among all the others and were never lost on him. For a moment as he watched her hands, he felt a sudden urge cover them both with his own, curious as to how they'd fit within them.

"I used to tie my father's neck ties every day when I was growing up. It was just the two of us. And he was never any good at them…" she told him as she worked. She secured a fresh knot so it fit more comfortably under his white collar and then smoothed her fingers down it to remove any wrinkles. She moved backward a bit to appreciate her handy work and smiled wistfully.

They looked at each for a moment, her soft brown eyes searching his harder ones as she reached up and pushed his rounded glasses up his nose. He said nothing and watched her move towards the kitchen door, wrapping her arms around herself to cover her bare chest. Already she could feel the stirring of that nausea returning.

"Now go, you're going to be late." she said and pushed the swinging door open just a bit before pausing and added, "Oh… And you left the front door unlocked last night."

Oliver paused what he was doing and his dark eyes darted in her direction to see her naked back disappear out of the kitchen. He just stood there all alone in the kitchen. He had been sloppy... She could have easily disappeared during the night and yet, she didn't. Perhaps she was testing him to see if he had done it on purpose just to catch her in the act. For a moment, he wondered if he should chain her again as a reminder of what used to be. But he had to admit, if she had wanted to bolt, she truly would have. Wendy was proving more and more that his trust in her wouldn't falter. For a moment, he contemplated following her back into the bedroom. Her behavior this morning was certainly… peculiar. And he wondered if maybe she was just toying with him. She seemed to be full of surprises this morning and found that she was inadvertently picking up on his habit of mind games whenever he asked her a direct question when he knew she was hiding something. But she also knew how much he adored a good chase whenever she was meek or reluctant to give in to his advances and the fact that she was doing it now when she knew he had to go to work was thrilling all the while just as aggravating because there was no more time.

Oliver thoughts eventually wandered back to her naked skin and the sight of her the kitchen, standing there almost completely uncovered. He took a deep breath to try to help calm his desire to go after her, drag her into his bedroom, and not let her go until she lay sweaty and completely spent beneath him. After pushing the lewd thoughts aside, he grabbed a small glass cup from the cupboard and reached into the fridge for the juice container and poured the last of the orange juice into it. He went for the pantry, opening the door to throw the empty container away and he stopped the moment his dark eyes met with the contents of the trashcan before him.

He set the container down on the counter and peered closer into the bin, his eyes gazing over the oddly colorful goop lining the bottom of the bag, suddenly realizing what Wendy had really been up to when he came into the kitchen. She _was_ hiding something. He pulled the bag from the bin and tied it up then made his way out of the kitchen and to the front door, sitting the bag in front of it to take with him on his way out to place in the larger trash can outside.

His brows furrowed as he stared down at the bag and he quietly contemplated the many things that may have caused it. Since he'd brought Wendy into his world, he had given her anything and everything she may have needed, including taking any type of medical care she required in his hands as well. And lately, she appeared to be adapting to the changes of her new life better than he could have ever dreamed. But perhaps everything isn't as it seems. The stress of the drastic change of her lifestyle in the beginning should have been something that would cause this to occur long before now. He wondered if perhaps there was some new form of stress altogether that was the more obvious culprit to cause this type of adverse reaction. Several times this week he could recall the nights he was held up at work and by the time he walked in the door, he would find Wendy sitting in the living room, her knees curled to her chest for comfort. And when she saw him she would dart from the sofa to greet him and probe him about how his day was. He had to admit that lately she was becoming clingy and if he was gone for a longer period than normal, she would become filled with what appeared to be the early stages of separation anxiety. Could this have been the result of nervousness at waking to find him gone? After a long moment of thinking these past events through, Oliver made his way quietly down the hall and walked into his bedroom.

Inside the bathroom, Wendy quickly flipped the lid to the toilet seat up and regurgitated the last remnants of whatever still remained in her stomach into the porcelain bowl, followed by several more dry exhausting heaves. She groaned and slumped on her knees over the bowl, her shaking hand rising to wipe away the tears that had collected on her cheeks from the strain of emptying her stomach. She reached up and closed the lid then pulled down on the silver handle, listening quietly as the evidence of this new situation that she wasn't quite sure how to handle went flushing down the pipes. She sat on the closed lid a moment and buried her face in her hands as she tried to collect herself. Oliver would find out eventually. It was only a matter of time. The more she thought about it, the more terrified she became. Her current situation with Oliver was full of uncertainty and was very complex. Elegant, if you would. After living with him these past few months, she quickly learned that his damaged psyche cried for a mother's attention with all a child's demanding. How was she going to manage juggling the necessities of a new baby and Oliver's as well? And did she really want it? Well, of course she knew she wanted it, but that was when she and Lana were still together, before her mistake of putting her in Briarcliff, before Lana left her for good. They'd always dreamed of one day having a baby….

After a long moment, Wendy pulled stood up and straightened the short red summer dress she'd slipped on to cover herself. She opened the bathroom door and gasped, jumping slightly at finding Oliver standing just on the other side, his shoulder leaning on the door frame as he looked down at her with those dark brown pools that seemed to expertly hide what he was thinking so well.

"Oliver! I-I thought you were heading off to work. Is... everything alright?" she asked him, her hands fidgeting at her sides as she peered up at him.

"You tell me. I found your dinner in the trash can." he responded in a low tone, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked directly down into hers.

She didn't say anything, looking away from his penetrating gaze and moved to walk passed him when he barred the doorway with his taller frame.

"I canceled my appointments today." he said, tilting his head as he looked down at her. "There's something you're not telling me… And if you're sick, it would only be fitting for me to stay home and take care of Mommy."

Wendy looked up at Oliver and he gave her a big boyish smile and he moved to the side, letting her out and he grabbed her wrist, pulling her toward the bed and made her sit. She watched him undo the buttons at the cuff of his white dress shirt and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows neatly. He then tucked the tail of his tie inside the space between the buttons of his dress shirt.

"Don't move." he told her firmly and she watched him disappear out of the bedroom only to return to with his briefcase.

He set it down on the bed next to her and moved across the room one more time to the small radio he had sitting on the corner of his dresser and flicked the little knob.

"Unlike in my office, such indulgences aren't available... But I'm not there, now am I?" he said from over his shoulder.

Static and broken voices spewed from the little speaker in front of the radio as Oliver turned the dial several times until he found a classical station and the sound of Frank Sinatra's voice quietly filled the air.

'_Regrets, I've had a few _

_But then again, too few to mention _

_I did what I had to do and saw it through without exemption _

_I planned each charted course, each careful step along the byway _

_And more, much more than this, I did it my way'_

Oliver returned and knelt down to his knees in front of her and opened his briefcase and she watched him, fascinated at how quickly and expertly he set to work in setting out and organizing several medical instruments, but the moment he pulled out a syringe she made a start.

"Wait Oliver, I'm fine. I just may have gotten a little bug somehow. Just give me some time to recover… But I swear I'm fine." she told him in a rush of words, her eyes never leaving the syringe.

Oliver didn't look at her as he continued to set out his tools. "Well, we'll see about that. Now won't we?"

He grabbed his stethoscope and draped it around his neck and then looked up at her while grabbing for the pen flashlight in the pocked of his dress shirt. He grabbed her wrist, placing the pad of his thumb in the middle and looked at his watch to count her pulse then proceeded to look her in the eyes again with the flashlight. Wendy just sat there, amazed at how efficient and quickly he worked, seeing how sometimes he would speak under his breath as he took mental notes of his findings. She'd never seen him this way before and was intrigued to see the doctor that had been hiding inside him all of this time emerge before her very eyes almost as if it were an alternate persona. Oliver stood up and opened the little clear buttons at the top of her dress until her chest was partially exposed then put his stethoscope into his ears. He placed the stethoscope into his ears and felt her jump at the cold touch of the chest piece to her skin as he listened to her heartbeat. She knew he was going to begin asking her questions in a moment and soon he would begin to piece the parts of the scattered puzzle together… She needed to distract him with some kind of diversion until she could figure things out for herself first.

She covered his hand with her own and he looked at her when she began lower to the scope. "Oliver… I'll be fine. Really. The way you're behaving, you'd swear I was lying in some hospital bed somewhere riddled with disease. But I'm not."

She really was beginning to feel much more at ease and when he began to object, she shot a finger up in front of his face. "I'm _fine.._. And I'll prove it."

She stood up, straightening her little dress and she gave him a small smile. "Have you ever gone dancing, Oliver?"

He cocked a dark, thick eyebrow at her and tilted his head. "I'm inclined to say no…. What are you getting at?"

She knew of his upbringing and knew of the life he'd had… at least parts of it and he wondered if she was just being curious or if this was just another tactic to direct the attention to him.

"Then it's time you stopped being such a square and had a little fun for once in your life." she told him with a small smile.

"I beg your pardon." he told her, taken aback by the name calling.

She reached up and took off his stethoscope and pen light and laid them on the bed.

"Just shut up and let me lead for once, Oliver..." she told him and grabbed his hand, raising it up and out at the elbow and laced her fingers through his. She grabbed his other hand and put it on her hip while she raised her free hand and placed it on his shoulder. Oliver's brows furrowed in confusion and he held her awkwardly in front of him.

"Now follow my lead…" she whispered as the music continued to play, moving to the side and Oliver looked down at their feet, noticing the way his feet were between hers and he followed her step. She moved again in the other direction, leaning her body to the right for him to follow as she moved and he stepped on her foot.

"Ow…" she said quietly, shifting and wobbling on her other leg.

"Wendy… I'm pretty sure I have two left feet." he told her, a little embarrassment hidden within his voice and he let go of her. She shook her head and placed his hands back where they were.

"You will never learn if you don't try." she said and gave him another smile. "Besides, you never know when you might feel like dancing and I'd like it if you asked _me_ next time."

She trailed him around over the floor and even showed him how to spin a partner gracefully. They continued to move and after about a song or two, Oliver began to pick up on the movements and eventually, their foot position changed and Oliver took the lead. Wendy crept closer, wrapping her arms around his shoulder's as the lyrics to the music being played slowly began to fill her with reminiscence of her lost love… Lana. The woman was never far from her thoughts and often times during the day when she were alone while Oliver was gone, she would ponder over where Lana could be out in the world, what she may be doing, and if she may be in some place new thinking of her too. And she wondered if perhaps Lana had moved on by now and found happiness with another woman…. A happiness that she had almost robbed her of.

When a new song began to play, Wendy's eyes grew wistful and distant and he looked down at her when she stopped dancing and she whispered the name of the song to herself, "_'Unforgettable'_". She stood there a moment, listening to the melody as the song lyrics crept through her mind and wound their way around her heart.

'_Unforgettable, that's what you are _

_Unforgettable though near or far _

_Like a song of love that clings to me _

_How the thought of you does things to me _

_Never before has someone been more _

_Unforgettable in every way'_

Oliver gazed on as her eyes grew glassy and she suddenly wrapped her arms around his chest and hugged him tight. He tensed in her arms as a warm wetness immediately seeped into his dress shirt where her head lay on his chest and he looked down at the top of her loose brown locks and the way they swirled down her shoulders like curls of shaved chocolate. She had never hugged him before… Just a moment ago she was smiling at him and he contemplated asking her what could have caused such a drastic change in her emotions, but decided against it because as he also listened to the words, he realized exactly what, or rather who it was. He swallowed hard and his arms rose to return the hug, but he found himself hesitating, unsure of the best way to truly return her gesture. Out of all of his years of medical training, he had become a master of verbally giving advice and prided his life's work to providing assistance to those who were mentally in as much as need of support as himself. But offering _physical_ comfort was always uncertain and unsure for him, like sailing into the open sea during a storm. You never know how well you'll be received and if you'll sail across unscathed to the brighter skies where the sun lies or if your efforts would cause you to capsize and become lost in the surrounding churning waters. But as usual, he felt he at least owed it to her to ease her distress. His arms finally encircled her shoulders and he rested his cheek on the top head, leaning into the warmth of her hug and let what felt like years of bottled up anxiety and fatigue of his psyche lightly begin to melt away. Though unbeknownst to her, all of this was still very much his fault and the blame of it never faded with every days passing.

As if on cue, her felt Wendy visibly relax under his touch and after a long moment, she finally pulled out of his embrace.

"I'm sorry…" she said quietly, wiping her eyes then looked up at him.

Oliver gave her a genuine smile and pressed his lips to her forehead then pulled away. "I'd like to still keep an eye on you today, to see how you're fairing. So to get your mind off things, how about you assist me in sorting out my medical journals? I've just purchased several new ones and have been putting it off, but it's high time I do away with the outdated ones."

She nodded. "I'm not sure how much help I'll actually be since this isn't exactly my field, but where would you like me to start?"

"There's a stack in the back of the closet in a box there along with several other things. You can start there while I grab the new ones from the trunk of the car." he told her and walked out of the room to retrieve said items.

Wendy walked over and peered into the back of Oliver's closet. There were two cardboard boxes sitting at the bottom, one was smaller and sat in the front while the other was much larger and was pushed way to the back. Deductive reasoning told her the larger should contain the books and she reached for it, dragging it out of the closet. She flipped the cardboard flaps open and began to sift around in the inside in search of them, her fingers brushing aside some of the small miscellaneous little items lying on top. From the looks of all the random items, it looked as though Oliver may be a collector of things. Perhaps a secret hobby? She found a pair of black, oval shaped glasses that seemed more feminine than masculine. She dug around a bit more and noticed a small golden shape underneath some of the items. She picked it up and held it out in the light of Oliver's bedroom and her eyes widened at the familiar cursive letter L shaped pin in her palm.

"Lana…." She whispered automatically.

Oliver strode back into the room, a fresh cigarette pursed between his lips as he carried in several more books and kneeled down to set them on the floor next to her.

"I gave this to Lana… on our fifth year anniversary." her eyes glued to the item in her hand, her brows furrowed in confusion. Oliver stopped what he was doing in stacking the books that had toppled from their position and he looked over at her.

"How did you get this?" she asked, turning to him and holding the pin out for him to see.

His brow furrowed for a second and immediately his eyes darted to the box she was looking through and then to her face. He didn't say anything and went back to stacking the books.

"Oliver, you told me you met Lana in the asylum… They don't let you keep personal effects and you told me you snuck her out so there's no way she could have it. So, where did you get this?" she questioned again.

Oliver stared at the pin in her small palm. When he looked back up at her again, her face was beginning to scrunch up, her mind putting the scrambled pieces together of everything she'd come to know since she came into his life and her eyes welled with tears.

"Wendy… I've never lied to you." he said began, standing up.

"But you never told me the truth either. For God sakes, what really happened to Lana?" Wendy began, her voice trembling.

He just stood there and took a drag of his cigarette as he looked down into her soft, glassy brown eyes. Of course he knew. She watched the thick white tendrils of smoke curl from his nostrils slowly as he exhaled.

"After everything you've put me through, snatching me from the only life I've ever known… You _will_ tell me." she told him angrily.

He continued to puff on his cigarette, his expression growing cold and listless. The expression that told her she was trespassing into dark, forbidden woods and would be best to turn around before she was snatched into its darkness without him even needing to utter a single word. Not this time, though. She knew she should be afraid. But her mind was racing with the thoughts of what could've happened to Lana… The things he could have done to her. If he was capable of chaining her up, what else could he be capable of doing? She stared into his dark eyes from where he stood. "You owe me this, goddammit."

He raised a single dark eyebrow at her challenging presentation and set his cigarette down in the glass ashtray on the floor. She narrowed her eyes at him from where she stood. If he wasn't going to volunteer an answer, she was going to make him. She suddenly reached down, grabbing a thick hardback covered book and lurched it in his direction. Oliver blanched as the heavy book smacked against his chest and his thick brows furrowed in agitation.

"Tell me!" she cried out and threw several more in his direction which he flinched against the flying assault of reading material turned weapons. When he turned to face her, she had already stalked up to him and before he knew it, she slapped him hard across the cheek.

Oliver's head snapped to the side with a crack from the force of it and her fists followed them afterward, pummeling his shoulders and chest. He grabbed her arms as another smack landed against his recently abused cheek.

"ENOUGH!" he bellowed loudly as he shook her hard and Wendy froze in his strong grasp, the sound of his voice reverberating off the bedroom walls.

He dropped her to the floor and she watched him as he reached up to run his fingers along his jaw and the small scar on his cheekbone. A burst of redness was beginning to blossom on his cheek from the impact of her palm.

"I've been wondering where you got that scar, Oliver?" she questioned in a low tone. "It doesn't appear to be very old…."

He turned his back to her and picked up his cigarette from the ashtray then walked over to the closet, dragging out that god forsaken box where she found that L-shaped pin and reached in. She heard the sound of glass shifting and he tossed a picture frame to the floor in front of her and her eyes bulged. It was a picture of her. She was naked, covered by only a thin white sheet, and a cigarette pressed between her two fingers. She remembered that day with Lana, sitting in bed together after they'd just made love. She remembered perfectly, just like it was yesterday. The glass covering the picture was broken into several pieces.

"I gave her this…." She said and after a moment, realization began to set in and Wendy began to weep, rising from the floor and shoving passed him. Oliver reached out grabbing her by the arm tightly. Tears streamed from her eyes. She snatched her arm from his grasp and fled out of the bedroom and into the hall.

"Wendy!" he called out. He wasn't too far behind her, chasing her down the hallway and she turned over a table with a lamp to try to block his path as she went.

Oliver kept coming and Wendy darted down the hall, her hand quickly turning the knob to the doors lining the wall, she didn't care which room, she just needed to get away from him. Away from whatever this was called her life. Of course each room was locked and she saw Oliver appear at the end of the hallway. He called her name once more as he approached, his steps quickening and she darted to the end of the hall, grabbing the last doorknob at the end that blessedly clicked open and she immediately slid inside, slamming the door and locking it just as Oliver reached it.

"Wendy! Don't run from me! All we have is each other now. Remember? You swore you would never leave me!" he shouted on one side of the door, his hand pounding on it while she stood in complete darkness on the other. For the love of God, he never wanted her to know, never to find out. And now she had managed to run right into the belly of his darkest of secrets. Alone.

"You can't even tell me the truth. You did this, didn't you?! You took her from me… Oliver, all of this was your doing!" she wailed.

She heard him jiggling the doorknob as she looked around in the dark, blinking the tears away as her eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness.

"Wendy, listen to me. Come out now…. There's nothing for you in there." he told her firmly.

She didn't respond and stood quietly, hugging her arms to herself as she wept in the dark.

"You can't stay in there forever." he told her through the door.

"Go away, Oliver! Just… Just go away." she called out. She pressed her back to the door and sagged against it as she slid to the floor, her legs unable to keep her up. Oliver pounded on the door, calling her name over and over. The doorknob jiggled and the wood of the door shook under the force of his hands slamming against it. But she didn't want anything to do with him. He had taken Lana away from her, she knew it. He hid the truth from her, just like everything else since the day she met him at her old home and she couldn't stop wondering what else he was hiding. Yet she couldn't figure out which was worse, knowing or not knowing.

She ignored the sound of his desperate voice and after a moment, his assault against the door had ceased and she slid away from it, looking down at the crack under the door and his shadow standing on the other side.

Oliver stood there, glaring at the thick barrier keeping her seperated from him. His hands pressed against the wood of the door. She wasn't supposed to find out. His mind raced to recall what he had been doing when he last went into this room. It wasn't his intention to leave it unlocked. He was sloppy… _again_. He had gotten too comfortable with things, too used to what appeared to be the beginning of a normal life. And now it was going to cost him severely. In aggravation he ran his hands through his short dark hair, pulling at the strands and he groaned before finally smoothing it back into place. His eyes narrowed at the door and after a moment, a small dark smile etched its way across his lips. She wouldn't stay in there long….

Wendy looked down at the bottom of the door where the light of the hallway outside was seeping through and after a long moment, she saw his dark shadow by the door slowly move away.

She stayed quiet, listening for his voice or any sign of movement, but there was none and she stood up and began to feel around in the dark, bumping against several strange items as she went. Her hands outstretched in front of her to help guide her and something soft and almost rubbery brushed against her cheek. She reached for it, feeling the strange texture in her hands. It was softer than leather and thinner than burlap. Wendy reached around further and bumped against a cold metal table, touching several pieces of wire and what felt like miscellaneous thread. She crept around further, finding the light switch finally and flicked it on, letting the light bathe her in its yellowish glow. She turned around and immediately her eyes grew wide as she took in her surroundings.

It looked like some kind of workshop. There were antlers, tools, a mixture of human and non human bones, animal fur and what looked like a human skull sitting in the corner to her right. Shock and fear froze her in place as she backed up and away from the items scattered out on the table and the walls. She bumped into the wall behind her and felt that strange material brush against her neck and cheek again and she turned around, looking up at it. The color and texture looked oddly familiar… like skin.

_Human _skin.

No, it couldn't be. She looked at it closer, her eyes trailing over the color and texture when something caught her eye. A familiar shape was etched into it. The shape of a small half moon, the same shape that Lana had on her left shoulder blade from when she accidently fell backward on the playground and onto the end of a broken piece of pipe sticking out of the ground as a little girl...

Wendy screamed, backing up against the door, her hand grabbing frantically for the doorknob behind her as her eyes took in the horrors around her and God, Lana skin….

"NO!" she screamed, her hand twisting and tugging at the door again to get out. It finally gave and Wendy fell backward through it, falling into Oliver's waiting arms and dragged him down to the floor with her.

She landed on her back on top of him and his legs wrapped over hers, his arms coming around her as well in a subduing cocoon.

"No, don't _touch_ me!" she cried as her limbs were restrained by his own. "Get off me! You're a murderer…."

Wendy continued to wail and cry and his large hand clamped over her mouth. It wouldn't do for anyone to hear her screams. Oliver reached into his pocket with his free hand, pulling a syringe from it and pulled the cap off with his teeth. She felt a sudden prick of what she could only guess was a needle in her neck followed by the rush of cool liquid into her skin.

"Shh…" he whispered next to her ear, feeling her tears run down his fingers. "This is why I told you not to go in there. Some things are better left unknown."

Oliver felt her small body jerking under his tight hold in an attempt to still gain freedom as she lay atop him and he waited patiently for her heart to do the work for him and pump the medication through her blood stream. Eventually she began to relax and he stayed there beneath him, listening to Wendy weeping quietly under his hand. She stared up at the ceiling above her as her pounding heart began to slow in her ears while she thought on everything she had just seen. Lana never left, she was taken from this world… By the very man who swore to save her.

His fingers smoothed the hair out of her eyes and his voice continued on, his tone much calmer and almost soothing compared to his earlier tirade and she dimly listened to his voice until the ceiling above her grew fuzzy and blurred then eventually, faded into black.

_"I never wanted you to see what was in there..."_

====To Be Continued====


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my twisted imagination.

This fic is not meant to offend anyone or cause some outrageous revolt. It is simply another product of three options: too much smutty imagination, too much time on my hands to help it thrive.

A/N: My apologies to my readers that this took so long to update! I appreciate every single one of you that is keeping up with this story and I'm so glad that there are people who enjoy it so thank you for sending me a reminder or asking me to update it. :)

Pairing: Oliver Thredson/Wendy Peyser.

American Horror Story: Asylum

Perfect Mistakes

Chapter Five

Blinding white light poured down into a pair of soft brown eyes as they worked themselves open.

"Where am I?" Wendy asked in a strained voice, her eyes squinting at the bright fluorescent light beaming down on her as she lay atop the cold metal table.

There was a long silence before he finally responded. "My basement…."

Wendy turned her head towards the sound of his voice calling out from some distant point in darkened the room, feel his presence, but he had yet to come into view.

"Oliver… what is this? You're scaring me." she told him, her wrists and ankles wriggling and tugging under the leather restraints. "Let me down, please…"

"The moment I first laid eyes on you, I once had a mind in thinking that you were the one… Perfect in every way."

This time Wendy turned her head in the opposite direction. His voice was moving, drifting through the darkness just beyond the edges of the light surrounding the table.

"What? I don't understand…." she said, her eyebrows knitting together.

"Why do you think you're on that table, Wendy? After everything you've seen, there should be no explanation needed."

Confused, Wendy lifted her head, looking down between her bare feet where his voice was last heard. He was getting closer. Her mind was a whorl of emotion and steadily as she looked around the room and then down at herself, her eyes brimmed with tears and she quietly let out a winded sob.

"Don't do this… You don't have to do this, Oliver." she finally begged in a weak voice.

He didn't respond as his dark eyes traveled over her small, naked form as he quietly emerged from the shadows to stand directly next to her. She was shivering, her brown eyes tightly closed as streams of tears poured from the sides of her eyes. He reached up and smoothed his palm over her forehead to brush several stray loose strands of hair from her brow and she stiffened, her eyes popping open as she looked up into his face for the first time she'd awoken. The fingertip of his other hand came into contact with the space between her breasts and began to trail it down her bare stomach, feeling her muscles under the skin tighten as it moved.

"You know, the skin is such an incredible organ. We often times forget that it is even an organ at all. It consists of millions of cells, all coming together to create the very make up of various layers of different tissues, all melding into one to perform a single solitary function: to protect us from the world…. "

Wendy said nothing as Oliver's gaze returned to hers and he gave her a small smile. "As a science teacher whose sole responsibility is to shape young minds, I'm sure you already knew that…."

She didn't say anything, her eyes glued to him standing over her. Something about him was off… Almost as if he was another person entirely. She blinked constantly to make him out through the flood of tears. His glasses were gone and his expression was… indifferent. He was wearing a blue denim shirt, buttoned to the neck and a green jacket atop it. And as she peered closer, she could see a dark leather apron that hung from around his neck.

"We've been through much together, you and I. I thought I had the best of both worlds for once and for a moment, I thought these days were behind me. But today, I think you made me finally come to the realization that it was too perfect. Or rather a perfect mistake, if you will. And since I can't have both worlds, I'll just have to suffice with one.

"What are you going to do?" she finally spoke up, her voice shaking as her chest was wracked with sob

"It's simple, really…." he responded and reached up to the top of the apron and slid a long silver scalpel from one of the pockets at his chest.

"Isn't it uncanny how that same solitary function of the skin, to protect us from the world, shares the very same function as ones mother?" he said as he held the surgical tool up and gazed at it glinting in the light.

"Please don't do this!" she begged loudly. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her fingers clawing for anything to grab onto, anything to save her from this fate. Her hand reached desperately from its tied position in attempts to grab onto him, to get through to him, but the leather strap was too tight. "PLEASE!... Haven't I always been here for you?"

Oliver's gaze left the scalpel and his head tilted in her direction.

"Wendy…" he began and paused, setting the scalpel down on the table next to her. His cold and distant expression slowly morph into that of a softer, almost wistful look. A look of regret.

Slowly he leaned over her, looking down into her wild and distressed brown eyes, those same brown eyes he often found himself becoming lost in. And now was no different. Still she continued to weep as she gazed up at him and after a moment, his eyes, too, grew wet and glassy. "I had such high hopes for you… My Wendy."

"Oliver, please." she sobbed. "How could you do this to me? You said you had the best of both worlds… You still do! And-and… if you do this, you'll never have that again."

Suddenly a large drop of wetness landed on her cheek, followed by several more and she looked directly into his dark eyes hovering over her face, realizing they were his own tears. The soft pads of his fingers wiped her flushed cheek, smearing the mixture of water into her skin.

"You're probably right." he told her quietly and reached up to quickly wipe his own tears away. He picked up the abandoned surgical tool from its place and looked at her once more. "But I want you to know… that I don't blame you."

Immediately her sobs returned full force as fear and adrenaline coursed through her veins unbridled, her twisting and pulling at the straps at her ankles and wrists seemingly all for not. She managed to finally grab hold of his jacket sleeve, gripping it tightly and his dark gaze met her pleading expression once more.

"I'm pregnant! Don't do this… please!" she told him, her eyes continuing to spill with tears.

Oliver eyes widened and he suddenly pulled his sleeve from her grasp. His eyes traveled down to her naked belly where they remained for a long moment.

"No… That's not possible. I think I would have known by now." he said in a low tone, his watery gaze meeting hers filled with terror and suddenly he felt a rush of aggravation and betrayal wash over him.

Oliver walked slowly toward the end of the table to begin at her feet and she began to cry out and scream desperately, anything to gain his attention. Quickly he wiped his eyes and his brows furrowed in agitation, his voice escalating to mirror his emotion. "Why would try to manipulate me? Do you think I _wanted_ this to happen?" he said, his gaze meeting hers again and he grabbed her ankle tightly to prepare for the first cut.

Throughout her panic, she felt a sudden cramping in her lower belly followed by a strange twinge between her legs. An increasing sensation of warmth and wetness seeped between her thighs and somewhere in the back of her terrified mind, she wondered if she had wet herself. For a moment as he looked up her body, he subconsciously noted that her sedative was wearing off far more quickly than he expected and wondered if he should put her out again, but thought better of it and would allow her body's natural shock response to do the work for him. Before he could finish his thought he stopped, looking up the length of her bare legs and the small spreading of bright blood seeping from between them.

He dropped the scalpel to the floor, stumbling back from the table as Wendy continued to cry and call out his name in desperation that something was wrong and she was right, something _was_ wrong. Why was she bleeding? This wasn't what he considered a normal occurrence under the circumstances. As if a switch had just been flipped, his mind begin to spin out of control at the obvious evidence right before his very eyes and all of the recent events that her behavior and physical illness had eluded him to. He stumbled backward, his eyes darting to Wendy's face. Why hadn't he realized it before? The signs were there, he just wasn't looking!

As he gazed at her from his perch against the wall, his mind finally began to register the changes within her these past few weeks that were so subtle they were hard pressed to even have occurred at all. Even now her skin was bright and warm, glowing under the fluorescent lighting beaming over her at this very moment. And then his dark eyes drew themselves back to the blotting of blood contrasting brightly against her skin and slowly Oliver shook his head to clear the trance he'd drifted off to and staggered his way over to her side to hurriedly undo the leather straps.

Wendy pulled herself free as soon as the ties were loose and in a frenzy, she clambered off the metal gurney.

"Get off me, Oliver! Don't touch me…" she whimpered and smacked hard against the cold cement wall of the basement.

She was still somewhat groggy and extremely light headed as the high amounts of adrenaline coursing through her veins tapered off now that the threat was diminished and she slumped to the floor, her brown eyes widening to adjust to the darkness she'd enveloped herself in as she lay curled up on the floor. Inwardly her mind was telling her to get up, to stop lying over the floor like Oliver hadn't just tried to skin her! The same man with whom she shared a bed with since she met him. But her body didn't appear to be listening and as she took in the surroundings from the floor, Oliver suddenly appeared, standing over her nude trembling body. She could still feel the warmth of blood pooling between her legs and after all that had happened, she felt her heart drop to her knees at what that implication meant. When he reached for her she could only give him a pathetic attempt at shrugging him off. She felt his hands hastily pulling what seemed like a few articles of clothing on her followed by a thick material draped on top to cover her up and her eyes drooped. Oliver was talking to her, but his voice was becoming increasingly distant as the effects of the sedative he'd given just hours ago returned to the forefront now that the adrenaline was no longer hindering it, leaving her feeling markedly exhausted. After a moment, her eyes drifted closed and Wendy felt Oliver's hands scoop her up from the floor and into his arms. Clinging to the front of his shirt, she felt the warmth of the sun outside as they moved to the car, desperate not to be alone if she dies.

The resonant sound of a consistent beep rang distantly in Wendy's ears. Wherever she was, it was dark, quiet, and cold and no matter how much she blinked, the world around her was a kaleidoscope of smeared colors, blotches and blurs. She was lying atop something hard and coarse and oddly uncomfortable. This wasn't Oliver's bed. Her brow wrinkled as she blinked continuously to try to make out her surroundings when suddenly her eyes bolted wide as the recent memories surfaced to the forefront of her mind.

"Oliver!" she called out, shooting straight up in bed.

A flash of bright light burst into the room and she quickly turned towards the source at her right, her eyes squinting to protect themselves from the painful rays of sunlight jackhammering into her skull. There was who appeared to be a tall, slender young woman dressed in a white Nurse uniform looking back at her with a rather confused expression as she secured the curtain, letting the room fill with a natural source of light.

"Oliver? Who is - Oh!" the Nurse said as she approached the bed quickly. "He must be that tall drink of water who brought you in last night."

_Brought me in?_ Wendy blinked several times, the smeared image of the woman coming into focus. She had a strong southern accent, unusual for the north. Wendy looked around at what appeared to be an empty, white hospital room. Her head turned to the left to lay her tired brown eyes upon the object beeping incessantly into her ear. She eyed the heart monitor adding the second jackhammer into the space between her ears and looked down her body for the first time to see herself lying in a stiff hospital bed connected to various tubes and wires springing from her arm and hand.

"He's been waiting rather anxiously for you to come to. I'm sure he'll be more than happy to see you're awake, hun." she told her. "He's been pacing this room and the halls outside so much I swear he was going to wear a whole right through the linoleum. I'll go tell him know you're awake."

Wendy's hand shot out and grabbed tightly to the Nurse's uniform skirt.

"Wait! Where is he?" she asked quickly and the woman looked down at her in surprise.

"He was just here the moment I came through the door. I think he said he was going to look for the doctor on duty so he should be back soon." she answered with a small smile. "Don't you worry, I'll be right back."

"No, you don't understand. You can't tell him I'm awake. I just… I need to get out of here. NOW." she told her, her fingers still gripping tightly to Nurse's uniform.

She began to shift and pull herself up to get out of bed and winced. The Nurse turned and grabbed her shoulders, pushing her back down.

"Hun, it's too soon for you to be up and about. Try to relax now. You've lost a lot of blood and gettin' all excited ain't helping one bit."

"I can't stay here. I need to get away from him." Wendy said and began to pull and tug almost frantically at the wires connecting her to the various machines at either side of the bed. "I'm begging you, _please_ remove this."

The Nurse grabbed her hands. "Don't do that, you could bleed all over! Look, just stay here, let me tell the doctor you're awake. You at least need to hear what he has to say first." the Nurse told her and walked quickly to the door and slipped outside.

"Please! Don't leave me here!" Wendy called out behind her, but her pleas fell only on deaf ears and the ears of the hospital room walls.

Her eyes looked around frantically as she mentally began to sort through the recollection of memories and immediately she looked down at her abdomen, recalling the vision of blood that had seeped rather heavily from between her thighs. She stared blankly down at her belly, her brown eyes beginning to water. Surely her baby was gone...

What was she thinking? Who knows how many people have been looking for her since her disappearance. What would her family think, her friends, if they knew she was carrying the baby of a murderer? If he could do this to Lana and her, what would stop him from doing it to anyone else? Or rather had already done this to! And then suddenly she froze, her hands shooting up to cover her mouth and a quiet gasp slipped from her lips as she recalled the grisly murders of that killer all over the news.

'_Oliver… is Bloody Face?' _

Her vision began to blur as hot tears spilled freely from her eyes at the realization. She had to get out of here before he came back. And then as if an alarm had been set off, the thought of being apart from him after all this time just wasn't settling right somehow. Strangely, he was all she had and she knew he had his reasons for doing this. But she had been with him for far too long and now that she was here in this hospital, she knew this may be her last chance to be free.

Among the turmoil swirling around in her mind, she couldn't stop these incessant feelings of failure for her unborn, her failure in being unable to protect it from such horrors, even if it was his. After a moment Wendy grabbed the tape and tubing secured to the top of her wrist and began to pull. She cried out between her teeth as the needles and layers of tape were slowly ripped out of her hand, smearing the thin white blanket with small bright splatters of red, but she didn't stop there and grabbed the one in her other arm, pulling until it sprang free from under her skin.

Pulling herself from the bed, she winced, grabbing her abdomen as she slid out of the blankets and her bare toes touched the icy floor. She stood on wobbly legs, her eyes still filled with a haze as she slowly made her way to the blinds covering the window by the door. She tipped one of the blinds down and peered out into the hallway, seeing several people passing by her room. But Oliver was nowhere in sight….

With a shaking hand, Wendy reached for the door handle and pulled, slipping out of the room and into the hall in nothing but a thin blue hospital gown. She clutched her lower belly as she moved, unsteadily and off balance, teetering along the halls as she tried to support herself with a hand on the wall. A dull, nagging pain began to radiate through the space between her thighs. There must have been a new dose of medication surging through her because she didn't recall feeling like this in Oliver's basement. Step by small agonizing step, Wendy crept down the long hallway as inconspicuously as she could. Oliver could be anywhere, could even be looking for her at this very moment as she continued her trek to the double doors down at the end of the hall marked with a glowing red "EXIT" sign. She whimpered, clutching tighter as the pain of her abdomen shot through her spine and down into the deepest part of her stomach. Pausing a moment, Wendy leaned against the wall, fatigue slashing recklessly away at her desire to escape. Not having sufficiently kept anything down in her stomach for the past week had certainly become more than an additional hindrance.

She looked up, noticing the cork bulletin board hanging on the wall just before she could reach the Nurse's station and as her lungs strained to recapture her breath, she peered up into the glass covering it. Her still slightly confused eyes glanced over the various little push pins tacking notes, updates, and news all over it and she did a double take when her eyes traveled over a small newspaper clipping in the bottom corner. Her steps faltered and her eyes grew wide at what she saw. She rubbed her eyes quickly in effort to clear them and stared down at the paper more closely. Written in bold black letters was a newspaper clipping.

'_Missing Since November 23, 1964, Wendy Anne Peyser.'_

Below it was a small picture of her and a long description of who she was at the bottom and even a picture of her standing in front of the school for a staff photo for the yearbook last year, which meant that someone, _any_ of her friends, coworkers, or anyone that knew of her was looking for her! At first she began to wonder in confusion and anger as to why no one at the hospital had noticed her! But the closer she looked at the picture, she could see it was so small and blurred that it looked like her yet it didn't. She'd always hated taking pictures for others and now the lack thereof had come back to haunt her. Before she could catch her breath, she heard that ever familiar deep voice coming down the adjacent hallway just up ahead to the left and she froze. She knew his voice all too well….

"No, no…." she whimpered.

By the bouncing of his voice along the halls, he was getting closer and from the sound of it, he was conversing with another man, but she couldn't make out what was being said. Quickly Wendy darted to the closest patient door she could find, grabbing at the handle clumsily to get it open and she slid inside, pushing the door closed just a crack as the voices rounded the corner and passed her by.

"Excuse me, what are you doing in here? This is a private room."

Wendy jumped at the voice and turned around, her eyes almost wild as she faced a small group of people surrounded by a little wrinkled old woman lying in bed.

"Oh my god…" she heard a woman gasp. "Miss... Are you alright? You're bleeding."

Upon notice, her brain finally acknowledged the few small droplets of wet warmth splattering lightly onto her bare toes. Her brows furrowed in confusion as she peered down at herself through the constant haze drifting through her eyes for the first time to see the tops of her feet dotted with bright red drops of blood dripping down her arm and wrist.

She leaned against the door wearily, resting her head against it. "I'm fine…. Just stay where you are… Don't tell anyone I was here, please?"

The small group of people gazed upon her in shock and the woman slowly nodded her head and before they could utter another word, Wendy quickly slipped outside into the hall. The moment she looked back towards her old room, her eyes grew wide as Oliver's tall looming figure emerged from it. He was in his black slacks and long black trench coat, looking down the opposite end of the hall and back until their eyes met.

His brows furrowed, his eyes narrowing behind his round glasses, seeing the smears of blood blotting her gown even from where he stood. "Wendy?"

She gasped, backing up in fear as he began to approach and bumped into a passerby who merely looked at her with wide eyes at her appearance. "Stay away from me!"

"Wendy!" he called out to her again.

She ignored him and took off down the opposite direction she was originally headed, stumbling as she nearly collided into several people. Scrambling back up to her feet, she fled down the hall, the sound of Oliver's heavy footsteps and his voice echoing in her ears. The various brown patient doors and random people whizzed past her in a blur as she tore down the hallway with a burst of energy she didn't know she had.

Oliver sped after her, his longer gait gaining distance faster than her exhausted legs could carry her until she disappeared around a corner. Seconds later, he slid around the corner after her and stumbled to a stop to see the hallway empty. He spun on his heel, looking in every direction for her… but she was gone.

He frowned and slammed the side of his fist against the wall. She knew everything, he couldn't let her escape. Correction, she _wouldn't_ escape. Not this time. After what he discovered, he was convinced more than ever that he had almost made a fatal mistake and that this was really meant to be… and he'd come too far with her to turn back now. He had been searching for her his entire life. She was _still_ the one….

Oliver took another glance back down the hallway, his eyes curious as he looked along the doors and open rooms lining the hospitals white walls. She couldn't have gotten far, at least not in her state. And if he knew her well enough by now, she'd probably run straight down the hall in a panic filled beeline, not really aiming for any specific direction.

After a moment of thought and recollecting himself, his dark solemn gaze dropped to the shining floor, absorbing the tiny, vibrant speckles of blood splashed here and there and quietly he made his way down the long corridor. His pace slowed as he followed her little trail of tiny red breadcrumbs slowly and albeit anxiously to have her within his grasp once more. After having a taste of it, the very thought of being away from the touch and exquisite heat of her skin was enough to drive him insane with longing. But getting to a panicked, bleeding young woman running rampant through a crowded downtown hospital before she could escape certainly wasn't going to be as easy as one might think….

The trail led him on towards the end of the hallway and Oliver stopped as the little red drops disappeared through an entryway shielded by several clear, thick flaps dangling over the entrance. Carefully, he brushed the flaps aside and slid through them, his keen gaze immediately scanning over the room.

It was a large storage room filled with tall racks with bins full of linens and supplies and he stood there a moment, listening for any signs of movement. The room was fairly dark so following her little drops of blood were no longer an option. Now forced to rely solely on his ears, he quietly began to stroll through the lines of storage racks, his dark eyes scanning through the spaces in the shelves in search of her and in the distance the soft patter of bare footsteps could be heard over the concrete floor in the distance and he stopped.

"I know you're in here…." he called out in a low tone after a while. "And the fact that you're hiding from me is only going to make things that much worse."

He stopped, listening again for any response from her, but there was nothing. The moment he continued his path, the patter of the footsteps started up again as well and immediately he knew she was trying to mask her footsteps with his own.

Wendy ducked behind a stack of rectangular containers, her heart rate pounding in her chest, her brown eyes watching quietly through the small space between them as Oliver's tall dark figure drifted passed on the opposite side.

"Wendy?" he continued as he tailed her the reverse direction of her footsteps. There was only one way out of this room and right now his path was leading her far from it.

Finally he turned the corner to reach the end of the line of racks and he stopped as the object of his every want and desire came into view. Wendy was crouched firmly in the corner, her back to the wall and her eyes wide as she stared up at his towering figure at the end.

"You don't really think you're going to get out of here without me, do you?" he told her calmly, sliding his hands into the pockets of his long trench coat.

"I'm not going anywhere with you… Not anymore. Not after what you tried to do to me." she told him quietly, her knees pulled up her chest.

Oliver's pace slowed and he stopped about a foot away from her. "Wendy… you have nowhere to go, no home to go back to."

"You're lying, Oliver. I saw the newspaper clipping in the hallway. Someone out there is looking for me and someone _will_ notice me from that picture." she jeered back.

Oliver's expression hardened and he moved a little closer, noticing the way she jumped when he moved. He crouched down in front of her, his posture a little less threatening. "That may be so, but tell me, how do you expect them to find you here under the last name Thredson?"

Wendy froze, her eyes widening as she stared directly into his brown eyes.

"You didn't really think I'd bring you to the hospital without some kind of precautionary tale, now did you? A woman brought in, over sedated by her accidentle mixture of her own medication used for the treatment of depression and excessive anxiety… All common disorders that a small percentage of new mother's experience." he continued in an almost bored tone. "Not to mention her paranoia bordering on the extreme. And as her appointed psychologist and fiancé... It is in my best interest to ensure the safety of both mother and child."

Speechless, Wendy blanched, her eyes now filling with tears once again and she ran her fingers through her disarray of chocolate curls. Was she really still pregnant? His hand outstretched to pull her up from the floor, but she smacked it away.

"After your little frantic episode out there in the halls, who do think the staff is going to believe? The mental patient or her doctor?" Oliver finished, his tone now hovering along the line of aggravation. His dark eyes roamed over her as she absorbed what he'd just told her.

This time he extended his hand back out, his large palm up in offering to take her hand, but still she refused and instead began to weep, sagging to the floor in obvious defeat. Oliver just looked on, watching her breakdown and finally relinquish her freedom to him again and he felt himself inwardly swell with pride over his victory. He noted that the blood seeping from her arm and hand had finally clotted though still very fresh and in the early stages of healing, but her gown was smeared with dark streaks. He moved closer to slide an arm under her knees and another under her back then lifted her up from the floor in a similar fashion he had done just a few hours ago. She offered no resistance and just weakly hung his arms. No other words passed between them as he strode out into the hallway with her. With no other place to hide her continuous grief over the fact that Oliver was more than capable and willing to do whatever it takes to keep her within his grasp now that he knew of her condition, Wendy buried her face into his chest to block out the world outside.

The same Nurse from earlier met them as Oliver rounded the corner. "Oh, thank goodness you found her! We've been looking all over for her. One of the Nurses told me they saw you chasing her down the hall, but by the time they got there, both of you were gone. I know she's unstable, but I only left her for a moment so that I could find you and when I came back, she was gone. I'm so sorry, Dr. Thredson."

"It's fine. Just see to it that it doesn't happen again, shall we?" he told the Nurse in a firm tone.

"Yes, sir." she responded, her expression contrite.

Wendy didn't look at him as they moved back towards her hospital room and a fresh well of tears poured from eyes when they passed the bulletin board again at seeing her newspaper clipping one last time before going inside her room. The Nurse followed closely at Oliver's heels and stood by the bed.

"I would ask that this bed is changed seeing as her sheets are soiled with stains of blood." Oliver said, turning to look down into the Nurse's green eyes and then she paused a moment as his dark eyes seemed to bore into her. "Please."

The Nurse blinked, pulling herself from his distractedly handsome face. "Yes, right away."

She disappeared only to return moments later and Oliver just stood there, holding Wendy in his arms until he was finally able to place her on a nice clean bed. He waited patiently for the Nurse to change her gown and reinsert her tubing and inwardly he was pleased that Wendy hadn't made a sound since they'd entered the storage room. His eyes followed the busy little nurse around the room as finished up then eventually disappeared out of the door.

Wendy turned her back to Oliver and balled up in the covers, ignoring him completely. She heard him sigh and take a seat in the chair next to her bed when a light tapping came from the door and they both turned in its direction. The door swung open and the doctor on duty stepped into the room. He was tall, slender with short, ashen blonde hair. He walked over to Wendy and she quickly sat upright as a what seemed like a thousand words wanted to spill from her lips in regards to everything she'd experienced that was the real cause of her being here, but she stopped before it could escape her lips. Oliver suddenly stood up to extend a hand to him.

"You must be…" Oliver began, shaking the doctor's hand once it was in his grasp.

"Dr. Borgus. I take it you are…" the doctor responded and paused to flip open the clipboard that originally tucked under his arm. "Mr. Thredson I take it?"

"_Dr_. Thredson." Oliver corrected and returned to his seat at Wendy's side. "State psychiatrist. _Her_ psychiatrist as a matter of fact."

"Oh! My apologies." the doctor responded and he glanced over his clipboard again before his grey eyes drifted over to Wendy who remained quiet as he began to explain his findings. "Mrs. Thredson… You may not have been aware of this, but your test results do show elevated level of HCG which is a hormone produced as an indicator of pregnancy. While you were asleep, your husband filled us in on the details leading to the reason for your visit and I must say, I'm very concerned seeing as the mixture of sedatives found within your bloodstream are very powerful. I know that you're being been monitored for your treatment of several psychological illnesses, but I strongly advise that you take precaution and if possible, avoid them all together. I'm sure Dr. Thredson would agree now that your pregnancy has been confirmed."

Wendy's brown eyes drifted from the doctors to stare off at a random point in front of her as she listened to the elaborate details of Oliver's story. She didn't even remember what happened after they left home, everything was a blur.

"Yes, I'm very excited." Oliver said, crossing his legs and giving the doctor a wide smile. He reached over and covered Wendy's hand with his own, entwining his fingers with hers as he looked in her direction. "Our first baby."

He felt her hand attempt to pull from his grasp, but Oliver merely tightened his grip. "I will continue to monitor her treatment. She has a very extensive history of paranoia and mild delusions, but she has been managing well until now."

The doctor nodded and looked back to Wendy. "You're very lucky, Mrs. Thredson. Your husband brought you to the emergency room in just enough time to avoid any further complications and from what I've gathered so far, the bleeding you've experienced is what is called a threatened miscarriage. This can be caused by a number of reasons: your current medications, your psychological complications and among those, stress included is included. I've ordered you bed rest for the duration of your pregnancy."

Finally, Wendy looked back into the doctor's eyes and he gave her a small smile. "I'm sure under the care of your husband, everything will be fine. Take care now and we'll see you in soon than you'll know it give birth to that beautiful baby."

"Yes, doctor…" she said quietly, her expression blank and dejected. And with that, the doctor walked out of the room, closing the door behind him as he went.

Suddenly Wendy pulled her hand from Oliver's and his eyes darted in her direction, his dark brows furrowing behind his round glasses. He watched her wrap her arms around herself and her face contort as she weeped.

"Wendy…" he began. "It looks like I was right about you all along. Don't you see? A new baby means a chance to start anew. This baby will need you, from the moment it leaves your womb. Just as I still do."

"A strong maternal bond will be built and breastfeeding…" Oliver began again then paused, his dark eyes looking over her small frame. "Is so vital to a child development and is the most vital effective way to accomplish that bond. So unless you want to be classified as mentally unfit to care for your only baby and spend the rest of your life in a place like Briarcliff, I suggest you play the part accordingly."

Wendy refused to look at him and her shoulder's shook lightly with each sob as she buried her face into her hands. Oliver waited albeit rather patiently for a moment and eventually, he saw her nod her head in reluctant agreement.

"Good... that's what I wanted to hear." he responded, his voice low and quiet and he leaned forward, placing a small kiss on her temple.

The room was grew quiet and Wendy just lay back down, her brown eyes staring up at the hospital rooms white ceiling until she closed her eyes to silently drown herself in her increasing depressing thoughts. It was over. Oliver had won. And if she wanted to see her baby, she would have to give. And if that meant continuing to live with a man like Oliver Thredson then she would do whatever it takes to accomplish just that. If she couldn't protect herself from this fate, she would at least try her damndest to protect her baby.

Oliver's hand reached for hers again and this time, she offered no resistance. He just held her hand in his own, his thumb massaging the soft skin at the back of her hand as he usually did to comfort his troubled mind and little by little, he began to smile to himself at the realization that with every single day, he was step closer to becoming a father.

====To Be Continued====


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my twisted imagination.

A/N: This fic is not meant to offend anyone or cause some outrageous revolt. It is simply the product of too much time on my hands and too much imagination to help it thrive.

Pairing: Wendy Peyser/Oliver Thredson. Don't like, don't read, it's as simple as that. Contains mature scenes and sexual situations, but you should expect that anyway since after all, this is American Horror Story right?

American Horror Story: Asylum

Chapter Six

In the hallway outside his personal office, Oliver had been standing in front of the wooden door for quite some time. In one hand, a small glass of Bourban, the other his long thick fingers were grasping the knob tightly, determined to face what lay beyond this door, but still he was hesitant to go inside. After all these months, he had been avoiding this part of his house since the day he first brought Wendy here to stay. It was as if an uncomfortable darkness crept somewhere within it that he now wanted to keep locked away. Taking a deep breath, Oliver then reached in his pocket for his key, quickly popped the lock, and let the door slowly swing open. Since Wendy's experiences with wandering into areas of his home without his permission, he then made it a point to stop being so careless and keep such rooms sealed away.

Flipping the light switch on, he stood in the doorway of his office, his dark eyes casually drifting around the cold, deserted room. His desk sitting in the middle was of course still neat and tidy, just as he left it. Quietly he strode inside and wandered over to the file cabinet he kept in the far off corner adjacent his desk. Opening the bottom drawer, he pulled out the very item that kept him out of this office. It was the large brown file box from Briarcliff.

Dropping it onto his desk, Oliver took a seat in his chair and exhaled heavily. Slowly he lifted the lid off the box and stared down at the pictures and files he was pointedly avoiding since the day he brought them home, the same day he brought Lana home. The same pictures that were a grisly visual representation of the two women he'd skinned all those months ago and made it a point to frame Kit with. He picked them up and laid them on the desk along with Kit's case files and the copies of the autopsy reports for Jed Potter.

Slowly Oliver reached into the box and splayed the pictures out across the desktop, staring at the evidence he kept locked away for so long.

Even now as his dark eyes scanned over the images of the remains of each woman's skinless, headless body, he could still them apart. As he looked over Allison Rydell's pictured remains, her slurred sedated voice still whispered between his ears and he remembered the way it confused him by telling him that she always thought he was a good man, she saw it in every time he came into the dentist office, and that he was better than this….

He looked over to the next picture, Donna Burton. Oddly, the librarian would always be his favorite. He suddenly tipped the box over, spilling the last contents out onto the desk and picked up her black almond shaped glasses she once wore and traced the left lens that was now cracked with his fingertip. He would never forget the way the way she smiled innocently at him when he approached her at her car just before knocking her out with a crowbar. Or the way the soft and almost tickly little peach fuzz on her skin felt the moment he could run his fingers over it. The sensation of it not only delighted but also thrilled him better than he ever imagined which is why he decided that she would be the one he would mask.

Setting the glasses neatly aside, he picked up Kit Walker's file and looked over the records only to find himself staring at the black and white photo of Kit in handcuffs. Since Lana's death, Kit no longer knew where the recorded tape resided; therefore he had no choice to but to comply with his demands in order to save his own child. Oliver did keep his promise and assured that his diagnosis would prevent him from going to the electric chair and instead live out the rest of his days locked in the facility as the notorious Bloody Face. Remembering the horrors of Briarcliff even as he continued to gaze at Kit's picture, Oliver couldn't help thinking that sending Kit to the chair would have been a more sympathetic choice.

The sound of shuffling was heard and he looked up to see Wendy drifting past the office door, her face downcast to peer into the cardboard box full of what looked like decorating supplies she was toting above her rounded belly. She hadn't taken any notice to the dark, brooding eyes watching her closely as she disappeared down the hallway. Oliver looked back at the files and stacked them all neatly atop each other then placed them back into the box. He looked over the mementos of his victims one last time: Donna's glasses, Allison's silver bracelet with a single charm in the shape of a tooth, and finally Lana's gold letter L shaped pin. He wasn't sure why he still kept that pin though. Lana's memory and betrayal would be etched in him until the day he no longer walked the earth. The scar on his left cheek, though healed, would forever be a reminder of the woman he once thought was his last hope. But in the end, there was really only one trophy of Lana's that outshone all the others and would keep forever.

And that was Wendy.

As he gazed at the items for a moment, he took this time to let his mind drift to that darker place he had not cared to venture to since the day he discovered Wendy was pregnant and quietly he relived the memories of the moment's he shared with each woman in his head.

But suddenly his thoughts were interrupted at the sound of Wendy drifting past his office door again with another box, this time his eyes glued to her belly poking out from under her thick blue sweater. He already knew why she was quickly bustling about back and forth. The baby's room…. It was the only place she seemed to always be happiest and devoted any of her spare time that he didn't demand by preparing it for the day to come.

It took quite a while, but after the incident in the hospital Wendy slowly but surely came to terms with her fate in realizing that she really would always be his. With the child growing in her stomach, their lives were forever entwined. And Wendy was about to give him the most precious gift that anyone could ever give which was a family and that was something that he would cherish from her forever.

As the months continued to fly by, he was finally getting the chance to see even more of the befitting mother in Wendy than what she already gave to him and it thrilled him beyond recognition to see it. It was when she was in such moments like smiling brightly as she sat in the rocking chair he'd placed in the room while reading a baby book aloud to her belly that he found himself drawn to her even more than before and couldn't bring himself to leave her side. As time passed on, they just fed off each other's emotions. The more he received that well placed maternal instinct from her the more it soothed his own tormented mind which in turn allowed her to feel more at ease and begin to open back up to him again. But she still wasn't back to the Wendy he knew was still in there….

The day he brought her back from the hospital, she practically became so withdrawn that every time he approached her, it was like watching her from the foggy shore of a lake while she stood in a tiny secluded boat in the middle, far beyond his grasp. But he refused to let her drift away into the surrounding mist, never to be seen again. It had taken all of his determination as himself and the psychiatrist within him to bring her back to him and help her to realize that it had been a mistake among many impetuous mistakes in his life. She had become more to him than he thought ever possible, so much more that he didn't know how to place it in words and was a feeling he wasn't unaccustomed to. For months now, Oliver was beginning to see that this was more than just sex and the obvious infatuation for the maternal figure that he harbored. This was something more... Wendy was the only woman among them all whose actions were decided based on the strings pulled by her heart and to him those actions spoke volumes. And for a moment, he pondered if this strange feeling that seemed to keep growing the more Wendy's pregnancy progressed was what is considered love. For the first time in his life, Oliver was feeling what he was deprived of all his lifelong and the longer he thought about it while sitting here, the stronger his desire for her affection and her presence. A smile began to spread over his bow shaped lips at the thought of her returning those feelings.

Oliver's eyes drifted back to the items lying out in front of him again. He was going to be a father very, very soon. And the first step toward the future was to let the past be past and lock it away where it belongs. Standing from the desk, Oliver placed his mementos back into the box, replaced the lid and walked over to the safe he kept adjacent his desk. Kneeling down in front, he twisted the round dial several times until the lock popped and after taking another look at the box, he slid it inside and locked it within the secured confines of the safe. Once sealed tight, he spun the dial once, letting the clicking fill the room and swiped his glass off the desk. Before turning out the light, he took one more glance over the room then made his way out to go after the object of his every want and desire.

Wendy dug around inside the box she'd set in the rocking chair, pulling out an armful of little stuffed animals that Oliver let her pick out the other day. She smiled to herself, loving the way the plushies felt against her and she turned to start setting them out around the room when suddenly she gasped, dropping them all to the floor after being startled to see Oliver silently watching her carefully from the doorway.

"God Oliver…." she complained with a heavy sigh as she looked down at the floor and the scattered toys. "You have to stop sneaking up on me like that. You scare me…"

Oliver then smiled at her and walked into the room holding a small glass of Bourban in his hand, the ice cubes tinkling as he began to swirl it around. She eyed him for a moment, taking note of the fact that he wasn't in a suit, but instead the pair of black pajama bottoms and long sleeve thermal from last night and it dawned on her that it was Saturday. He began reached down and picked up the animals one by one and stuffed them under his arm with his free hand when suddenly the glass he was still clutching was slipped from his fingers and his brows knit together when he looked up to see Wendy holding it.

"I thought we talked about this. Less drinking." she chided, moving the glass behind her when he reached for it.

"I do drink less…. Besides, this is my first glass and I've only taken a sip." he told her, reaching again for the glass but instead of giving it to him she leaned forward and stole a kiss from his lips.

Oliver's eyes grew wide by surprise and the sudden intrusion of her tongue and then just as easily his eyes drifted closed as he immediately melted into the kiss. His senses felt like they came alive as the slippery texture of her tongue snaked gently around his and when she suddenly pulled away, his bereft lips followed her for a moment until he slowly opened his eyes to see she was now across the room.

"Are you lying to me Oliver Thredson? I can taste the amount of liquor on your tongue." she said, setting the glass down on the wooden rocking chair behind her while situating a little orange teddy bear in the corner of the crib. After being a school teacher for years, thinking quickly came easy to pry the truth from her kids when she caught them red handed in mischief and Oliver was no different. Her tactics of catching him off guard and exposing the truth came quite easy and was just a little something she kept in her back pocket just for him.

Ignoring her question, Oliver licked his own lips several times in a pitiful attempt to capture the sweet taste of her still lingering on them. He set the toys down on the changing table next to him and crossed his arms in disappointment at her distance. It had been at least two months since they were last intimate and right now as his eyes traveled over her backside, her steadily widening hips, and not to mention her slightly fuller breasts, he felt the heat hurtling to his groin. The further her pregnancy progressed, his longing for her intimacy was greedily eating away at his decided preservation. He was trying to refrain from doing anything that would make her uncomfortable, but her changing body was driving him wild. And right now he wanted nothing more than to bend her over the nearest piece of furniture and bury himself between her thighs to remind her of what they used to share.

Wendy turned on him at his silence, looking at him puzzled for a moment until she was able to discern just what had captured his attention so and she felt her face burn hot. She turned away, suddenly becoming uneasy and she busied herself with the next toy. Oliver's bare footsteps slowly made their way up behind her, his eyes raking over the skin at the back of her neck. He missed the way her skin felt when it was flushed with arousal while pressed against him. He was determined to bring her back to him and there was nothing better than using her own body to rekindle the fire. She felt an arm wrap very snugly around her ribs and the other wound higher around her chest.

"I think its time we have a little talk." he said, his voice low next to her ear and pulled her back against him.

"But Oliver, I'm right in the middle of getting this room just the way I want it. And you know I don't like leaving things unfinished." She complained, her soft brown eyes gazing around the room and his hand at her shoulder began to slowly wander lower over her breasts.

Before she could control it, a shiver ran down her spine at his touch and Oliver smiled to himself as he felt that tremor course through her smaller form. He leaned over her shoulder and pressed his cheek against hers, his eyes closing at the sensation of her soft, warm skin against his. She stiffened, swallowing hard as those long thick fingers worked their way up to trace her clavicle, but the moment she moved to try to snake her way out his grasp, that large wandering hand was quick to clasp gently around her neck. Wendy felt her heart rate thrumming in her ears as it escalated at his close proximity and silent display of dominion. As his hands began to explore Wendy couldn't determine if was it was her rampaging hormones or the unabashed affection towards her that was trying to ignite the dormant spark between her thighs. But when that hand darted to her neck, she froze. She knew that he swore he would never hurt again, but he still never ceased to unnerve her at times and she couldn't help gripping the fuzzy arm of the stuffed yellow monkey still hanging in her grasp at her side.

Oliver paid careful attention to her body language to sense any unnecessary distress and when his findings were minimal, he charged forward with a renewed determination. He was quick and his hands wandered over the top of her sweater, skillfully undoing the buttons and before she could utter any form of deterrence his fingers slid inside and skirted over her nipples the way he knew she always liked it.

Wendy bit her bottom lip as what seemed like sparks fired off in her mind at the touch and her eyes closed, becoming uncomfortably lost in the touch. Oliver smiled as he felt those delicate and soft nubs turn into hardened little pebbles beneath his fingers. With the way she was leaning against him, he wondered if the area was hypersensitive and he couldn't resist grinding his groin into the softness of her bottom. Wendy sighed and made a tiny little noise at the back of her throat as his fingers caressed her breasts, but when she felt his nose and lips press against that traitorously erogenous area of skin at the back of her neck and her knees suddenly grew weak.

"Oliver... I thought you wanted to talk." she said quietly, her fingers gripping the bar of the crib in front of her for leverage.

"I do, but you're so distracting." he said. "Unless… You want me to stop?"

Wendy's lip pursed, her eyes wandering around as she mulled over his question. She did want him to stop and yet it was as if her body wasn't listening. Was she really ready to go back to the level of physical contact she once had with this man?

He listened carefully and decided to take her silence for what it was. Hastily, Oliver pulled her sweater down roughly to bunch under her breasts to expose them to the cool morning air. She stiffened at the sudden exposure and the return of the warmth of his hands. He continued to massage them, feeling their suppleness and testing their new weight in his palm like he was rediscovering them all over again. He switched between massaging and gently squeezing only to finally pluck at the already hardened tips.

Slowly a bit of uneasiness made itself known when she realized that if this kept going, he was going to find out the secret she was hiding from him, but God every touch felt as though it was amplified and just felt so… good. She had been keeping it from him purposely as she wasn't quite ready to return to the relationship they once had. But before she could muster up the strength to try to stop him, her secret was divulged.

Oliver suddenly stopped his ministrations when a warm, opaque liquid gushed onto his fingers and he looked down over her shoulder to investigate.

Wendy quickly looked down and a soft gasp escaped her lips at the discovery and turned around to look up into Oliver's dark eyes with a contrite expression.

"You're lactating..." he said, pulled back, his breath still heavy with the lust rushing through his blood and his brows furrowing. He had known it was a day that would come, but with the distance between them he wasn't quite sure when to expect it. He adjusted his glasses to better inspect the fluid on his thumb and index finger.

"I know... I just- I'm sorry I didn't say anything! I just didn't think it was a good time." she blurted out almost apologetically in fear that he would upset. He was very adamant on knowing every detail or change about her pregnancy, but with his constant need for motherly support, she just couldn't bring herself to travel down that road just yet.

Before she could utter another word, Oliver couldn't resist licking the substance off his fingers, curious to the taste. He found it to be still a little warm and lightly sweet.

His eyes darted to Wendy's, searching her face for a split second and he reached out, swiping the remaining stray liquid from the over stimulated nub and sucked it from his finger. Wendy's eyes widened in fear of what she knew would come and Oliver suddenly dropped to his knees, pulling Wendy down with him by a rough tug on her pants.

"Oliver, don't!" she called out as she toppled, his arms quickly adjusting her to a straddled position and when his head dipped to take her nipple between his lips her body stiffened and she grit her teeth.

"Oliver, please… " she whimpered quietly.

She attempted to push him away half heartedly by barely touching his shoulders as though she was afraid to initiate any physical contact on her own, but his hold was strong and unrelenting. The sensation was certainly different than any she had ever experienced with before and after a moment of willing herself to calm down she realized the hypersensitivity certainly had its perks. Slowly she felt herself beginning to relax as her body reminded of how much it actually missed the wet heated stimulation of his mouth. Eventually his perseverance prevailed and Wendy curled over him, her palms finally coming to rest more comfortably on his shoulders. Oliver continued to nurse from her, his urge to rebuild the bond they once had undeniable. He felt Wendy relax in his arms and her cheek come to rest on the top of his head.

After a moment, Oliver then came up for air, breathless as he licked his lips of any remnants of the milky substance still found there. Wendy looked down at his handsome face, his expression now completely lax.

"I honestly don't know what I would have ever done without you, Mommy." he said as he gazed up into her warm brown eyes.

"I know… But you need to slow down until Mommy is a little more comfortable." She eventually responded and although her expression appeared a reluctant, he smiled innocently nonetheless.

He knew she was right, but as his eyes roamed over her still exposed skin and the red over stimulated nipple, his urge to be as to close her as possible suddenly strengthened tenfold and he reached down between them and pushed the waistband of his pajama bottoms down to expose his hardened member to her eyes. Wasting no time, he placed her hand around it and immediately set to work at undoing her bottoms, but this time she stopped him.

"Oliver... We _can't_." she told him and his thick brows furrowed questioningly until she looked down at her stomach and he recognized that she really wasn't comfortable with the idea. His lips pouted slightly until he decided to forgo for something else.

"Well, that doesn't mean we can't explore other options, now can we?" he said and slid his hand inside her panties, seeking out and massaging the tiny hidden bud there.

Wendy gripped his shirt tightly as the building need that she was trying so hard to repress boiled back to the surface. His fingers moved quick and deft and her jaw dropped open as what felt like the most intense waves of absolute pleasure rolled through the space between her thighs. This time she offered no other resistance as his middle and ring finger suddenly slipped lower into her passage in one quick thrust. Her thighs spread wider of their own accord and they tensed and trembled with her increasingly blossoming need. This time needing no encouragement, she shoved her pants and panties down her thighs to give him more room. It had been so long since she last had release and Oliver just watched her with a look of amazement as he brought her off, her sex soaking and squeezing his fingers and it took all of his will to not replace them with his aching erection.

With his other hand, he gripped the plump flesh of her bottom, massaging it as he helped to rock her hips over his hand. Wendy leaned over him, hugging him around the neck, her eyes squeezing tight. She whimpered and her eyes shot open when she felt him give one of her butt cheeks a light spank. A deep moan of his approval sounded in his throat and she felt it rumble through her chest.

"Ngh! Ah! Oliver…" she babbled incoherently in his ear as his fingers suddenly increased in urgency, circling her walls and thrusting so harshly she almost bit her tongue. Her hips twisted and rocked to desperately follow each thrust of those thick fingers she used to love.

Oliver smirked lightly as Wendy gripped him tight, her release already upon her and he almost winced at the increase of heat around his wet digits. Finally he pressed his thumb to her clit and she stiffened, her body tightening up and her hips jerking as she came all over his fingers.

Wendy sagged down against his chest as if her muscles turned to mush, but she was too mindless of caring. Oliver stared into her vacant brown eyes while his fingers now gently stroked her insides to soothe after his abuse and help to draw out her orgasm. After a moment, Wendy slowly sat up, running her fingers through her chestnut locks to brush them out of her eyes and she made a small sound when Oliver's fingers finally withdrew.

"I must say, it's wonderful to go back and rediscover what was once forgotten." he said in a deep, quiet voice and gave her wink then sucked the juices from his fingers.

Her release left her lightheaded and unfathomably relaxed, more relaxed than she had been in a good while. As she processed his statement, Wendy felt the heat rushing to her face at his statement regarding their vast array of sexual history, but when she felt his still prodding erection against her thighs she couldn't help feeling remorseful knowing that it was probably painful after doing what he did to her without his own release. Timidly, her palms eased up his thighs and Oliver looked at her intently, his breath already becoming anxious the further up she went. He swore his heart seemed to soar at the notion that she was willing to return his gesture, but he didn't want her to feel like she had to if she wasn't ready.

"Wendy… You don't-" he began.

"Shhhhh…." she hushed and he needed no further reprimand if she wanted to keep going.

When her fingers crept further up his hips and finally wrap around him, his breath hitched. She began stroking the steely length of him in languid strokes and Oliver hissed lightly through his teeth. God, how he missed this.

Leaning back on his elbows, Oliver's head fell back and his eyes drifted closed as her soft fingers slid upward and her thumb swirled over the tip, spreading the moisture collecting there and a small moan escaped his throat when she repeated this action several times. Her grip tightened as she tapered her way up on each stroke and his hips thrust eagerly upward into her hands. With each grunt and gasp, she increased her speed just a bit and he felt his lower stomach tighten. After so long, he was powerless to stop his own impending release and finally he looked down at her, his eyes once again absorbing the sight of her still naked breasts and her fingers wrapped around his member and without further hesitation, he felt himself come undone.

Wendy felt his hips suddenly jerk beneath her, his back arching with the force of his release. His large hands tighten into fists, his knuckles almost white as a sudden gush of heated wetness spilled onto her fingers. She watched in wonder as the handsome doctor beneath her toppled into his lewd display while her fingers continued to stroke slow and deliberate.

As his body slowly settled back, several small tremors coursed through his larger frame. And Oliver looked up, his dark eyes glazed with contentment and he pushed himself up and pressed his lips to hers to steal a gentle kiss. After several moments, they rose from the floor and went to clean up, but by the time Wendy came back in hopes to finish working on her decoration, she found Oliver was already back in the baby's room, rocking slowly back in the forth in the rocking chair while waiting for her and it struck her that they hadn't finish talking. He rose of the seat and took her hand, leading over to the chair to sit down.

"Wendy, this really is important…. And I think we've both been avoiding this until now." he began and his gave her a small smile as if the youthful boy within him had returned to the surface.

So far hadn't given any indication as to what this was about and pulled the discarded stuffed monkey she was holding just moments ago into her lap to hold close. Oliver watched her clutch the yellow animal against her comfortingly and he took a seat on the floor directly in front of her, crossing his legs. His hands came to rest in his lap and he kept his gaze down at them as he spoke as though he couldn't bring himself to look up at her.

"I watched you for a long time before we officially met. I know everything there is to possibly know about you, some things you may not even think that I know, but I do." he stated plainly and finally looked up at her with a mischievous little smirk as though it was some dirty little secret he was hiding. "I didn't trust everything that Lana told me about you and I needed to know who you were before I brought you into my life. You understand that I needed to do this in order to know if this woils be possible between us first?"

Wendy looked at him, a little taken aback by his statement and when he cocked a dark, thick eyebrow at her in anticipation of her response, she nodded quickly.

He continued on. "And you know me, Wendy. You know the… _things_ that I've done, but I don't think its enough."

Wendy tilted her head, her brows furrowing in confusion and curiosity as to what he meant because she was sure she knew more than she had ever wished to know, but she stayed silent.

"So before we go through with what I have planned in the coming week, I think we both need to be on equal playing ground… It's only fair. So I'm going to give you the chance to ask me anything you've ever wanted to know." he finished.

"Wait… What's happening in a week?" she spoke up.

Oliver suddenly smiled, feeling a sense of heat rising to his face and he then buried his face in his hands as if he were embarrassed to say then finally looked up into her eyes. "We're getting married."

Wendy blanched, her eyes slowly leaving his gaze as shock took the reins and charged through her mind like an out of control wagon with no driver.

"Married?" she whispered aloud and her hands began to tremble as his decision would completely cement the fact that they would truly be together forever…. She was going to be _married_ to a murderer.

"Until death do us part." he answered, his face growing serious and her eyes darted down to her growing stomach and then back to Oliver's dark eyes through his round glasses as he looked at her expectantly while gauging her reaction in hopes that it would be well received. He remained quiet, his gaze locked on hers, giving her time for it to settle in.

"I…" she trailed off and stopped. Since the hospital, she knew there was no alternative, there was no way out, and in the back of her mind she always knew this day would come. And when she felt his hand tug hers towards him and his fingers lace through her own, she blinked out of her reverie and the tear that had been collecting in her eyes spilled onto her cheek.

"I understand, Oliver…" she said all of a sudden, her voice now quiet and resigned as she snapped out her trance and Oliver smiled wide, taking her tears and response as happy acceptance despite the fact that she didn't really have a choice in the matter. "But you're right. I need to know something before we go through with this. If you ever do anything for me, if I've ever truly meant anything to you, you have to do something for me."

"Anything." he said almost eagerly.

It was her turn to look away as she spoke and Wendy averted her gaze to her rounded belly once more and ran her free hand down it to finally circle her protruding belly button with a finger. She already knew the lonely history of the life he'd led, the emotional rollercoaster of a man that he was, and she also knew his reasons for doing what he's done to those women in the past, Lana included. But right now, she only wanted one thing from him. "I feel it's my responsibility to protect this baby. And if this is going to work… You have to promise me that no matter what happens, it never finds out that… That Bloody Face lurking around somewhere in there with you."

Oliver looked down to Wendy's stomach and his expression grew placid as his thoughts wandered to the innocent growing fetus nestled within her. "And I mean it, Oliver. Unless you want to destroy the one thing you've been trying so hard to build… If you want your child to not grow to hate and fear you… then you will do everything within your ability to not let that happen. And if you don't, then this time you _will_ lose me forever."

Oliver was silent for a moment as he let Wendy's request sink in. He would do anything to keep his only child from ever knowing the man he used to become and swore he would be the father that he never had. And he already made the first step by sealing away that part of his past for good.

"Then I'm one step ahead of you because the process has already begun." he finally confessed and his eyes grew glassy at the possibility of his child ever finding out the truth. "I swear it."

And suddenly he sat up on his knees and leaned into her, his arms wrapping around her waist and resting his head on her chest in a child like manner in need of comforting. Wendy looked down at the top of his head and slowly ran her fingers through his dark hair as a gesture of reassurance and unspoken agreement.

"Oliver…" she eventually spoke it, her voice beginning to shake. "There is one more thing I still want… No, _need. _I need some kind of closure from you. I need to know that those women didn't die in vain."

Oliver lifted his head and looked up into those chestnut pools of hers, his gaze searching hers as she spoke. "I need you to tell me why you turned their skin- Lana's skin…." she paused, a lump building in her throat that she couldn't seem to swallow no matter how hard she tried. "Into furniture."

Oliver's gaze never broke hers. She watched the subtle change in his expression switch from a sort of serene to almost distant like the little boy within him had been snatched back into the dark depths of his psyche where it was always desperately trying to escape.

Leaning back a little, he looked down at the little yellow monkey she was still holding and picked it up to run his fingers over the contours of fuzz covering its body. She watched him gaze at the stuffed animal for a moment then brought it to his chest in a cuddling like motion before he spoke.

"So they were always with me and I'd never be alone, but I don't need them anymore. Not when I have the both of you now." he answered honestly and then he replaced the monkey back into her grasp and slowly a smile crept over his lips.

Wendy clutched the monkey in an almost protective manner as she watched him give her a slow smile then stand and walk out of the door, leaving her behind to most likely begin whatever it was he was planned for the day.

Before Wendy knew it, the anticipated week went by quickly and when she awoke this morning, Oliver was already up and sitting crossed legged in the bed while smoking a cigarette as he watched her sleep. And at first she was confused until he greeted her with a wide grin and hopped up only to lift a white garment that was already draped over the bed for her to see and immediately her eyes bulged at the realization. She hadn't even seen him obtain the dress, but he certainly had it.

Today was the _day_. And what a day it was. She didn't exactly imagine this to be how her special day was going to be. It was supposed to be the happiest day that every woman anticipated having at some point in their lives. It should be filled with so many feelings of pure excitement, joy, and tears shared between her and her friends.

It was her wedding day.

The day that would forever tie her to the one person she chose to devote her love absolutely. She was starting an entirely new journey that was supposed to be filled with all sorts of new memories and a new life. Yet as Wendy stood in the mirror of the church dressing room, staring at her reflection while thinking of what awaited her on the other side of those glass doors, she waited for the flood of expected warmth and happiness and overwhelming zeal to wash over her.

And she waited.

And waited….

But those feelings never came and she sighed audibly. At one point she even tried to force them to come about by pretending the reality was just some terribly fabricated fantasy and that she had finally woken up to the perfect world that in truth only lingered about in her dreams, but some things just can't be forced.

And it wasn't helping that Oliver made sure she was going to go through this all alone. Even after begging and pleading with him to at least find one of her friends, just one of them, to let them know she was alright and allow her to see them one last time, still he refused. He didn't want to risk it and between her over abundance of pregnancy hormones, she cried in the baby's room alone in wonder as to what else could she possibly do to earn his complete trust for god sakes! She had given him everything from her freewill, her life, her body, and what was left of her soul. And soon she would be giving him the very last most precious thing a woman could ever give: a child. And _still_, she was going to go through this all alone, as she had been doing the moment she unknowingly tumbled into this life she had now, whatever it was. With her family long gone, her friends would surely follow right behind them. Hell for all she knew, they weren't even aware that she was still breathing the same air.

Carefully Wendy studied herself in the mirror and felt her vision cloud with unshed tears. The white silk wedding dress that he'd picked out for her left her shoulders and arms exposed. The top of it clung around her breasts while its hem billowed out at the bottom to accommodate her changing frame to finally stop just above her knees. There was a wide white ribbon around the front just above her swelling belly that tied the fabric up at her back with a pristine bow like she was a gift that he couldn't wait to open. Her chestnut hair was pinned back into an elegant little bun at the back of her head and was topped with a healthy plum Calla lily. Wendy frowned. It was beautiful and yet here she was unable to bring herself to truly enjoy it.

Finally done with her physical evaluation, Wendy plopped down on a small ottoman in front of the vanity table and buried her face in her hands. Her soon to be husband was waiting for her out in the main hall, but she couldn't bring herself to go out and face him. This was the beginning of the end to the very last of her old life that she had been trying to hang onto by a steadily thinning rope.

She glanced over to the small bouquet resting atop the vanity that he'd laid out for her. It was mixed with more plum Calla lilies and vibrant red Irises that seemed to bleed scattered petals about the vanity table and as she looked at those withering petals, she felt a little part of herself die along with them. Suddenly one of the church coordinators burst into the room.

"Miss Peyser, what are you doing? It's too late for cold feet now." she said, shutting the door behind her and fluttering around the room in a hurried frenzy to make sure everything was perfect.

"I just… I needed a little time." Wendy told the woman quietly, her gaze never leaving her gloomy reflection in the mirror.

"Have you forgotten who's waiting for you at the altar? I don't know about you, but I wouldn't leave something that gorgeous alone for too long. He'll likely be swept up and away before you can even make it up the aisle." the woman continued.

The woman made her way over to finish scolding her for the stray tear that slipped down her cheek because she was ruining her makeup and Wendy began to tune her out while she wiped her eyes with a Kleenex in an attempt to salvage her mascara. Little did this woman know that this was the least of her worries….

After adding a few minor touch ups, the woman then stood at the door impatiently, her hand on the doorknob waiting for her. She had stalled long enough. It was now time to put her past life behind her. Lana was gone, her teaching days were over, and she was about to become a wife. Wendy took another hard look at herself in the mirror. This would be the last time she would see this version of herself in the mirror and after giving it one last look over, she rose up from the vanity table and left it behind as she exited the dressing room.

The church was a small, quaint place across town that he'd chosen since he preferred a private ceremony, as expected. Quietly Wendy padded behind the usher, her little white flats barely making a sound over the wooden floor. Suddenly she came to a stop at the end of the isle and Wendy glued her soft brown eyes to her feet. Panic was attempting to set in at the realization that she left her bouquet in the dressing room and immediately she knew Oliver would be upset if her ensemble wasn't complete. Apparently sensing her distress, Wendy felt the missing accessory of the bunched Calla lily stems slip between her fingers and her eyes darted up to see the usher smile and wink then brushed her forward lightly to begin her walk down the aisle.

Keeping her eyes glued to the tips of her little white shoes barely peeking out past her growing belly, she couldn't quite dare herself to look up the aisle just yet and already she could feel his dark eyes on her. She stood there for a moment and closed her eyes to help collect her thoughts. This was it. She took a deep breath as encompassing visions of the future fluttered about in her mind like a sudden gust flipping the pages of an open book and the promise of watching her baby grow before her very eyes seemed to lift the melancholy away.

And as she pondered this moment of what that future might hold, she began to realize that the part of her she had been searching for all day was finally coming to the surface. It was the part of her that held the little bit of happiness that she was looking for all day long. Very soon she was going to have the one of the things she had always wanted most and that was to be a mother. And even though this wasn't the relationship she ever envisioned it would turn it out be, she knew that it would be one free of any unnecessary judgment all because she loved a woman, despite it's terrible secret.

The music began to play and Wendy snapped out of her trance. She swallowed hard as the carefully she took her first steps down the aisle.

She was nervous and her brown eyes darted around the church as she walked and seeing it particularly empty gave her a small breath of relief. The closer she got to the end of this pregnancy, she couldn't help the awkward little waddle she possessed and as if she didn't have enough emotions running rampant through her, a rush of embarrassment joined in to mingle with the rest of the crowd. With every step, her heart pounded in her ears, growing louder and heavy, so heavy she thought she might succumb to its weight and pass out before she reached the end. But before her knees could weaken, she felt a large warm hand take hers and carefully pull her up the three small steps at the altar. Wendy looked up to the owner of that hand, her soft chestnut eyes meeting the dark chocolate gaze of her husband to be for the first time in several hours.

Oliver was looking down at her with a wide smile. He had been watching her since the moment she came into view and she was absolutely radiant. Better than he could have ever dreamed…. This pregnancy truly had only enhanced her already natural beauty. At first he wasn't sure if he chose the right dress, but he didn't want to ruin the moment by having her try it on. It had to be a surprise. Thankfully his intuition was right because the dress she wore accented her widening hips all the more and flashed her softly pink skin beautifully. She was practically glowing gently under the soft light of the church high above their heads and the candles burning at the back of the altar.

"I was worried I might have to come and get you..." he told her quietly with a small smile and tugged her closer to him by a hand at her waist.

Finally Wendy gave him an apologetic look, albeit she was very nervous, but took a bit of comfort in being at his side. "I'm sorry. It took me some time to get everything settled into place." she responded, hoping he wouldn't read between the lines and realize she was actually speaking about her heart.

She took a quick glance around the altar and the priest standing in front of them while Oliver waited patiently for his readiness to begin. She took this moment to let her eyes wander over Oliver's tall form as he stood next to her. As always he was astonishingly handsome in an all white double breasted suit, a white dress shirt, and deep purple tie in contrast. She noted the Calla lily in his breast pocket was the same shade as his tie and the one in her hair.

Finding himself satisfied with his own evaluation of her, Oliver gave the priest the go ahead and they stepped up to the altar. As the ceremony progressed, it seemed as though everything was happening so fast she swore she was in a daze and when it was her turn to say 'I do', she hesitated a moment and looked up into Oliver's round glasses. He looked back at her expectantly and she swallowed hard, glancing between Oliver and the waiting priest. But when his head titled to the side and he cocked an eyebrow at her, she cleared her throat and spoke up. Oliver's smile returned to his face and as the ceremony came to a close, he hooked a finger under her chin and turned her gaze up towards him to reclaim her attention. Reaching for her hand, he pulled her towards him and cupped her face with both his hands and he couldn't help noticing the way her body was actually trembling under his touch. Leaning forward, his eyes drifted closed and when he captured her lips, he felt the warm wet buildup of her tears cascade down his fingers.

========To be continued======

A/N: Next update will not be so long of a wait! Thanks for reading. :)


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my twisted imagination.

A/N: This fic is not meant to offend anyone or cause some outrageous revolt. It is simply the product of too much time on my hands and too much imagination to help it thrive.

Pairing: Wendy Peyser/Oliver Thredson. Don't like, don't read, it's as simple as that. Contains mature scenes and sexual situations, but you should expect that anyway since after all, this is American Horror Story right?

American Horror Story: Asylum

Chapter Seven

Standing in front of a far off window of the hospital waiting room, Oliver stared out at the rain forcefully cascading down the glass like a rippling, blurry sheet. With his hands in the pockets of his dark slacks, his third cigarette pursed between his lips, he puffed anxiously at the stick, not even bothering to remove it between puffs and just let the smoke slip from his nostrils with each long drag. It had been at least three hours and so far he was still where he originally was after they arrived at the hospital sometime this morning.

And yet as he stood by this window, looking out into the grey bleakness of the thunderstorm, he continued to silently replay the phone call he received at work this morning within his mind. It was the only thing he had left to keep his rampaging thoughts busy until he heard some kind of news. At this point, he didn't care if it was good or bad, he just wanted to know something so that he could stop treading about in the dark feeling absolutely hopeless and lost….

Since some of the heat surrounding him back at from Briarcliff had finally settled down now that Kit's case had come to a close and Lana was deemed dead, Oliver was finally able to move on to a more stable practice downtown. Now that he had the available means to make phone calls without them being monitored by the staff at Briarcliff, he had begun taking advantage of the opportunity to call home from his office to check on Wendy daily at various times within the day to not only make sure she was where he expected her to be, but also to see how she was fairing in his absence. They were at the end of her eighth month of pregnancy and the closer she came to the end, the more apprehensive he was about leaving her behind. Originally he wanted to delay getting started at this new practice, but somehow she managed to convince him that it would be best to wait until she gave birth rather than before. Now he was regretting his decision with every fiber of his last remaining sense of being because the voice he heard when she picked up the receiver today wasn't filled with the usually passive and somewhat warm voice he expected to hear.

She was panicked, absolutely frantic and he tried to calm her down so he could make sense of it all until she told him what she saw… And after she did, she had to keep saying his name to pull a response out of him, but he couldn't even manage to form any coherent thoughts nonetheless force them into words. He had left her, at almost nine months pregnant, home all alone and now he was at least a thirty minute drive away. She did tell him she managed to call an ambulance, but because there was some other emergency across town due to the storm, it would take them even longer than expected to get there. And in that moment, he just knew that everything he'd worked so diligently regardless of the acts he'd committed to obtain it was being ripped straight from his fingers.

====Flashback====

3 hours now. 3 horrendously long hours since Wendy had gone into labor about 9a.m. this morning. And this new hour wouldn't be any more merciful than the last two.

It all started when an unusual discomfort had awoken her out of her sleep. After pushing herself up in bed, her brown eyes squinted in the darkness of the bedroom as she sleepily attempted to figure out what caused her to stir. Suddenly a sharp pain sprung from her belly button and zipped its way down to the space between her legs. Quickly she looked over to the bed space next to her only to find it empty and cold and suddenly it struck her that today was the day that Oliver had begun his new position at a small practice downtown. He was already gone….

Hobbling drowsily out of bed and towards the restroom, she berated herself for not flicking on the lamp to illuminate the room and her hands reached out in the darkness for anything she could grasp as a guide. As she moved, the sensation she thought she'd felt seemed to disappear and she wondered if perhaps it was something she had only imagined in her delirium. And yet the moment she reached for the bathrooms doorknob, a sharp pain throbbed up and down her lower spine. Clutching her belly, she let out a cry as the pain nearly sent her doubling over. She stumbled inside and the moment she flicked on the light switch, she felt an odd twinge and a burst of fluid seeped down her legs.

Grasping the sink for support, her fingers swiped at the slippery fluid coating her thighs and she held it up to the light. "Oh my god..."

'_Of all times, this was happening now?_'

She hadn't planned on going through this all alone! This entire month, she had begun having slight labor pains, but Oliver assured her that was normal in this trimester. He'd been reading all kinds of material about giving birth at home, from what to expect at every moment, what signs to watch for, and the various complications that could arise. Despite how much Wendy complained he insisted that it would be fine and preferred she be in the comfort of their home where he could closely monitor her and the baby. He wanted the baby to be with him and its mother rather than alone in a room crowded full of other newborns waiting until their mother could see them. But she didn't want to give birth at home, she wanted to be in a hospital! Oliver was only a psychiatrist for Christ's sake. He possessed the standard medical training, but nothing to the degree of birthing a baby. And yet he insisted that it would be fine and that women have been giving birth for thousands of years without the aid of a hospital facility. But his statement of the obvious did little to calm her anxiety. Apparently he preferred she be in the comfort of their home where he could closely monitor and keep an eye on them both without distraction.

Grabbing a towel from the towel rack, her trembling hands wiped at the fluid soaking the crotch of her panties and the hem of her yellow nightgown. It was everywhere, seeping along the cracks in the tile floor and Wendy dropped the towel on top of it to soak it up. It took her a while, but she carefully made her way out of the bedroom to get to the phone in the living room. The water still somewhat seeping down her thighs was sticky, clinging to her skin. She let out a cry and gripped underneath her belly as that throbbing sensation reared its head again and began to run up and down her spine the further she went. Suddenly the idea of walking anyway wasn't as good as it sounded about ten minutes ago.

Wobbling down the hallway and into the living room, holding onto anything she could to help keep herself up, she reached for the phone and accidently knocked it from its table to the floor as an even sharper pain than before throbbed up her spine.

'Oh god, it's coming faster.' she thought, her breath becoming winded from just the small amount of exercise getting from one room to the other.

Unable to stand any longer, she collapsed to her knees next to the wooden coffee table and with slippery fingers she reached desperately across the top for the little piece of paper with the phone number to Oliver's office that he kept there in case she needed it. Twisting the rotary dial of the phone with a shaking hand, she listened with wide eyes in wait for him to answer.

And to her shock, he didn't! She jammed her finger into the plunger on the base to hang it up and dialed again, her face scrunching up with frustration and an increasingly building fear. She listened again as the phone continued to ring for what seemed like ages until finally he answered. The second she heard his voice, a tumble of words came rushing out of her mouth so quickly as she described the events of what had occurred and at first, he kept insisting she slow down and take a deep breath so he could understand, but she couldn't think and everywhere below her belly button hurt and felt like it was twisting and clawing further south!

She retold it to him again and as she explained that her water had broken, she reached down between her legs to check to see if it had stopped and instead pulled back a wet palm tinged with a bright mixture of blood. Immediately it seemed as if the line went dead at the mention of the red life supporting substance and she let out a fearful cry at discovering it was still coming. Pain radiated down her spine. Something was wrong…. And it didn't help the fact that Oliver's home was secluded out in the woods. There was no one nearby, no one to run to. After calling his name several times, Oliver must've snapped back to reality and told her he was on his way.

By the time he arrived at home and bounded through the front door, there was a light yet distinct scent in the air. A scent he was very familiar with….

"Wendy?" he called out immediately and he darted to the kitchen, only to find it empty. "Wendy!"

Finally he heard a small winded cry coming from the back of the house. It grew a little stronger as he hastily followed it into the bedroom. When he reached the bedroom door, his medical kit slipped from his fingers and dropped to the floor by his shoes. His knees grew weak as the thin glue that was holding his shriveled up sanity together suddenly dried up and went crumbling to the floor at his feet. Wendy lay there on her side, curled up on the floor next to the bed with a hand barely clutching under her belly in desperation to ease the discomfort.

There was blood staining the bed sheets on the bed to where she lay somewhat tangled up in them on the floor. It was everywhere. _BLOOD, BLOOD, BLOOD_.

"No, no, no…" he whispered under his breath and quickly he crawled down to her, his wide dark eyes searching her body over and the scent of her blood hit him full force. Her skin was clammy and pale and only when he opened her eyelids to check her level of awareness did she finally meet his fearful gaze. She gave him a small smile, relieved to have him by her side. Oliver could see in her expression that she was trying to be strong for him like she always had been, but her body was weak and her movements almost frail. His hands touched her gently like the whisper of a ghost's touch as though he were afraid she might break. She was cool to the touch and he found her pulse under his fingertips to be weak.

"Wendy! Don't do this…" he asked quickly upon noticing that she was also slightly lethargic from the loss of blood. He needed to keep her alert until the ambulance arrived. "Do you remember your promise that you would never leave me? I'm still going to hold you to it. You've always exceeded my expectations and I'm not going to let you disappoint me now."

He was hesitant at first to pull away the stained sheets. Part of him was expecting to find the tiny body of his stillborn within them and he was forever thankful that he didn't because if he had, his mind would be lost forever and Wendy would most certainly die. Oliver turned her over to her back and when her eyes drifted closed, he tapped her cheek with his hand several times and called her name to keep her attention on him. Reaching for his medical bag across the floor, he opened it with the urgency of a man who was about to lose it all and turned it over, spilling out the contents over the floor next to her body.

"Oliver…" she whimpered hoarsely as a tear slid from her eye. A wrenching assault of pain coiled its way between her hips and she winced, grasping the cloth of his dark suit jacket. "I'm scared."

"I know… I should never have left." he said as calmly as he could and he looked into her soft brown eyes as they closed. He could tell from the shape she was in that she had been in a great deal of pain. "But you're doing good. This will help to alleviate some of the pain." he told her as his glassy eyes returned to her gaze.

Feeling him brush the sweaty strands of hair back from her eyes, Wendy sensed the press of his lips to her forehead followed by a warm drop of wetness that she knew well enough by now to be his tears. She lay there listening to him fumble around next to her and the tiny clinking of what sounded like little vials of medication. Was she really going to die here on Oliver's bedroom floor? Where still no one knew of her whereabouts or that she still walked among the living?

Oliver emptied at least three different syringes into her arm to help ease the pain and hopefully spike her adrenaline to forcefully keep her alert. Tossing the used syringe to the side, he watched with watery eyes as her labored breaths began to calm and he reached up to rest his palm on her rounded belly.

Truly neither of them new this would happen. It was an unknown unknown, but still he felt he was responsible somehow. It took her a moment to respond, but he was sparked with a bit of hope when her hand covered his own atop her rounded belly only for that very same spark to become snuffed out when he noticed her hand was smeared with dried blood. For the first time, they had switched places and she was leaning towards him for support rather than the other way around and he would be sure to give it to her. His eyes filled with tears, his dark thick brows scrunching up and as he began to weep, he felt the cool touch of her hand on his cheek.

Her touch only seemed to cause the damn to burst and he looked back into her eyes tearfully, the baritone of his voice wavering as he spoke. "I'm sorry, Wendy… for everything. Just don't leave me! PLEASE don't leave me!"

"Shhhh…." she finally managed to say.

Wendy couldn't help the heavy exhale she released at finally feeling some form of relief as the medication flowed through her blood stream and she watched Oliver pull himself back together and slip the little pen light from his dress shirt pocket and stick it between his lips. He slid down her body to between her legs and she felt him spread her thighs apart and his fingers probe in attempt to determine the status of the unborn child.

Bringing her arm up to cover her eyes, Wendy began to weep. By now she was sure that her baby was already gone. Too much time had passed and she never felt it moving down to prepare to be born. And yet as what appeared to soon be her last moments, the animosity she felt towards the damaged man sitting with her during this ordeal had disappeared along with her feelings of denial and regret the moment he came through that door. There was no point left in holding onto that grief. What good would it do her once she was gone? Right now, the only thing she wanted in this moment was to not be alone.

"I can't see very much." he told her honestly as his head reemerged. "But it looks as though the flow of blood stopped a while ago. There's always the possibility that this could be the result of tearing somewhere else…. God dammit, where is that ambu-"

And before he could finish his sentence, there was finally the sound of paramedics knocking on the front door he left open in his haste to get inside.

====End Flashback====

Drawing his tired eyes away from the window, Oliver looked down at the front of his white dress shirt and the few streaks of dried blood smeared there from where he'd wrestled to untangle them from her body to see what lay underneath and make sure his eyes weren't deceiving him. After hearing the doorbell, the rest was just a blur and now here he was, standing in the hospital feeling utterly helpless and abandoned. For the first time in his life, he wasn't in control and it was driving him crazy. And damn the staff for keeping him out when he should be at her side. He let loose a heavy sigh, the cigarette smoke curling from his lips in a billowing swirl as he returned to gazing out of the window.

Currently, she was still in the operating room and for all he knew, she could die in there, alone and without him. And if the child was already dead as well, then he had no doubt that he would gladly follow them both into the afterlife.

"This is your first I take it?" said a voice next to him and slowly his dark eyes drifted from the window to the owner of that voice. It was an older man, a few grey streaks decorating his auburn hair. Lifting his hand to finally remove the cigarette from his lips, Oliver's brows knit together in his confusin as understanding had not fully set in.

"Your first baby?" The man clarified with a small smile and extended his hand out to him for a friendly handshake.

After a moment, Oliver shook his hand and upon noticing the few red streaks of dried blood on the white cuffs of his sleeves, he quickly pulled his hand back and stuffed it back into his pocket. He'd managed to wash as much of the blood away as he could in the hospitals bathroom since he'd left the house hastily to follow the ambulance carrying Wendy, but naturally he knew all to well that those stains wouldn't be removed. But thankfully the man before him didn't seem to notice them.

"Yes, this is my first… How did you know?" he asked curiously while somewhat relieved for the distraction.

"This is my fifth time in this maternity wards waiting room. I can _always_ tell the new ones." He chuckled lightly. "Standing around, looking completely lost, and have no clue what to expect the first time those tiny little eyes look back at you."

At the thought of seeing his baby after all these months, to hold the little miracle that he and Wendy created together, he felt a bit of relief, though momentarily. He wouldn't feel any type of excitement until he knew both of them were fine.

"It seems like I've been waiting an eternity to see that face." Oliver said with a small wistful smile. "But my wife... Something happened today and I don't even know if either of them will make it."

Surprisingly Oliver felt the grasp of the man's hand on his shoulder followed by a light squeeze and he closed his eyes in relief, grateful for that one comforting touch despite the fact that it came from an absolute stranger.

"Well don't you dare give up. The staff at this hospital has brought all of my children into this world and they do a damn fine job. That baby will be in your arms before you know it." the older gentleman told him quietly and gave him a light pat on his back then took his leave.

Turning back to the window, pulled out another cigarette and this time tore the filter off the end and pressed it to his lips. They hadn't even chosen a name, nor even knew if it was a boy or a girl. Wendy told him she wanted it to be a surprise…. Before he had a chance to take his anticipated drag, he heard something that he was starting to think he would never hear.

"Oliver Thredson?"

Turning around, he looked down to find a short young nurse dressed completely in white from the nurse's bonnet resting atop her head to her white shoes standing behind him and he was quick to respond regardless as to whether or not he would be receiving the news he was dreading during these long grueling hours of torture. "Yes, I'm Oliver Thredson."

She directed him over to the side and away from the few other people scattered about the waiting room.

"Your wife is still in the operating room at this time and right now, we're not clear on her status as of yet, but in the mean time… I do have some very good news! Someone is very anxious to meet you just as much as you want to meet her." she told him quietly with a small almost timid voice.

"_Her_…?" Oliver repeated and a smile slowly etched its way across his features while his gaze drifted off, almost dumbstruck at her implication. He had a baby girl! It took all of his will to refrain from releasing an outburst of his excitement that his newborn was alive.

The nurse gave him a wide smile in return. "Yes. She's a little survivor and boy was she fussy! But I would be too if I had the journey she had."

"Is she healthy?" he suddenly asked.

"Yes, though very tired. She was under a great deal of stress. You see, sometimes some babies don't position themselves appropriately when it's time to be born and well… She had somehow twisted herself around and had become breached. But thankfully it wasn't too long of a wait to get her out. Any longer and she may not have made it." She finished, her voice soft and quiet to keep the conversation between them.

Oliver took a moment to let it all sink in. She's alive and she was healthy! But what about Wendy….?

The nurse called his name again and finally Oliver looked down at her in recognition.

"Now, if you would follow me, please?" she asked and at first he was slow to respond then finally nodded. They moved through the double doors winding through the long white hallways, Oliver right on her heels in his eagerness to see the baby he thought he would never have. The second that wide viewing glass came into view, he darted past the nurse and rushed up to it, more than glad that the area was empty. His dark eyes searched among the rows of babies in their tiny little white beds in search of the name tag that belonged to him.

"Your wife told me that she had a little secret. She already had two names picked out even though you both actually wanted it to be a surprise." The nurse told him quietly as she peered into the window next to him. "One for a boy and one for a girl and she made me promise to pick one of them for the baby before we put her under in case she would never be able to pick it herself…."

He looked down at her quickly, the excitement of seeing his child dulled at the lingering possibility of Wendy not surviving. The nurse gave him a remorseful expression. "Hopefully we'll have good news of her condition soon. Wait here please."

Just knowing that Wendy was still on that operating table, possibly fighting for her life at this very moment left him feeling sick. He'd spent the better part of the past two year taking lives and the thought of losing the only woman that had gone from being his lover, mother, wife, and mother to his child would gladly give him all the more reason to do whatever they needed of him to save her life. Silently Oliver watched her small form drift around the corner and reappear through the white door that he could see through the glass on the opposite wall.

His hands pressed to the thick glass of the baby nursery as he watched the nurse pass swiftly through the rows of little rectangular beds until she reached her destination. He watched her intently as she pulled back the little white blanket and a small yellow beanie cap was revealed. His eyes widened, the world around him evaporating into the background and he pushed his round glasses up his nose with a finger to get a better look at his baby for the very first time.

She was asleep on her belly, wearing a pink onesie from head to toe that was covered in big yellow polka dots as a gift given by the hospital. From what he could tell, she was small but rather plump like a soft and cuddly little potato sack and he was more than glad that he was constantly after Wendy about her nutrition and made she was eating. Her round cheeks were somewhat pink, her small lips bow shaped like his, and underneath her bright cap was a short tuft of dark hair about as equally as dark his own. Her skin was glowing bright and fresh under the soft nursery light and Oliver suddenly felt overwhelmed with the urge to touch her. Carefully under his breath he counted her tiny little fingers on each hand, one by one until he counted to ten. Sadly her toes were hidden in a pair of tiny yellow booties, preventing him from counting them too. Slowly a wide smile spread over his face as he continued to gaze at the product of the many lust filled encounters he and Wendy had partaken in together. And just like those experiences, this baby was just as perfect.

After a moment, Oliver's smile grew even wider as he let himself fill with a tremendous amount of pride that _finally_ he had done something that was the most meaningful in his life. His eyes drifted down to the name tag on the side of her small rectangular bed.

"Audrey Thredson…." he breathed out.

Before he could even think about stopping himself, he darted to the door of the nursery, knocking feverishly until the nurse reappeared. The minute it opened, he squeezed his way inside and distantly heard the nurse protesting his presence in fear of germs being passed off to the baby, but he wasn't even listening. Desperately, he needed to see her, to hold her, and _no one_ was going to stand in the way of that. Weaving his way through the few isles of babies with ease, Oliver didn't stop until he was standing directly in front of the one that would forever be a part of him.

His dark eyes raked over his baby girl one more time to take in every exact detail now that he could see her up close. As he continued to examine her, she began to wiggle about out of her sleep and watched her small face twist into one of a discomfort and he reached into her baby bed, slipping his fingers under her tiny frame and scooping her up. Immediately he coddled her against his chest, his eyes drifting closed as he rested his cheek gently on the top of her small head. She wriggled in his arms a little and made a soft sound of complaint at being disturbed from her first nap in the world outside her mother's womb and he smiled again at hearing the very first sound of her voice. She was just as warm and cuddly as he imagined when he was on the other side of the wall. Suddenly the nurse rushed over to supervise him.

"Sir, you're not supposed to be in here!" she whispered harshly next to him. "This is a restricted area, that's why I wanted you to wait outside."

"I needed to see her... Certainly you must understand, she's my _first_ born. Under normal circumstances I wouldn't have her anywhere except in her mother's arms and since she can't be, I'm all she has..." he responded in a slightly agitated tone at being interrupted during this moment but voice softened when his gaze drifted back to Audrey. "And she knows Daddy's voice."

The nurse looked up at him and back to the baby in his arms for a moment then decided to ease up her overprotective attack. She reached over to help adjust his hold on the baby by adjusting his fingers appropriately behind the baby's neck. "I'm sorry… Here, make sure you support her head always, okay? I'll be over here if you need me." she told him and decided to let him be.

Slowly, Oliver turned Audrey so she lay comfortably in the crook of his elbow and he noticed that the expression on her small face calmed considerably while she was in his arms. Gently he reached up with his free hand to pull her booties off and he ran his fingers over her little feet. They were so small both could fit into one of his hands with room to grow and he just stood there a moment, marveling at how just one of her toes weren't even half the width of his pinkie. Lightly Oliver touched each one of them until he counted to ten the same way he did her hands and he lifted her up in front of him. At long last, he was a father! And this little person in his arms was now depending on him for absolutely everything. Audrey's short chubby legs dangled in the air and when her sleepy eyes finally peeped open to meet his for the first time, he grinned from ear to ear. A quiet gasped slipped past his lips and he stared back in amazement at the striking color that pooled within them. They were a warm, honeyed color mirroring a soft hazel while also almond shaped like her mother's and immediately he found himself becoming lost in those tiny little eyes. He never truly knew his own ancestry and he idly wondered if her eyes were passed from him or Wendy.

Either way, she was beautiful...

"Mr. Thredson..." said the nurse quietly and when he turned, she reached out to carefully slip the baby from Oliver's grasp, but his brows furrowed as though she had offended him and he drew Audrey back to his chest protectively. "I need to put her back down for her nap so she won't be fussy. I know you're excited, but she has had a very long journey, remember and she's tired."

Slowly and reluctantly, Oliver looked back down at Audrey resting comfortably against his chest and he noticed she had already fallen asleep again. After a moment he nodded and kissed her forehead, taking a second to inhale the scent of her fresh skin. The nurse reached out again and this time, he allowed the baby to leave the comfort of his hold.

"Does she already have vaccines lined up? What is her treatment plan after this ordeal?" he asked quickly and followed closely behind the Nurse as she went around the bed and lay Audrey down into it.

"In about two hours she'll be going for a few additional vaccines and another check up." The nurse responded almost as if she were on autopilot with the way she so easily handled his baby and he watched the nurse slip her booties back on effortlessly and cover her little body with her white blanket. "You're welcome to spend some time outside the nursery if you'd like to stay with her until you hear news of your wife."

Oliver watched as the woman drifted away to check the neighboring beds and he gave a defeated sigh at the thought of his baby being passed from person to person and pricked with a continuous array of needles. He knew better than anyone that they were a necessity however. When the nurse wasn't looking, he slipped off the yellow beanie and ran his fingers over Audrey's soft dark hair then leaned down to kiss her head one more time before sliding her cap back on to keep her head warm. He wanted to continue to hold her, to carry her with him to see her mother, and to watch them bond… But he couldn't.

Running the back of his index finger over her cheek before heading towards the nursery door, he looked back at the little sleeping baby one more time who had absolutely no idea that she may possibly have to go through life without her mother the same way he had, to possibly grow up with the same tortures that he did, was killing him inside. He closed the nursery door quietly and shoved his hands back into his pockets.

Any moment now, he just knew he was going to receive the news he had been dreading this entire time. It was getting late now, it had to be soon. A crack of thunder from the storm outside thrummed against the walls of the hospital as if it were reminding him of the dread that was still there. He treaded slowly around the hospital's empty hall, feeling an irritating emptiness, the same emptiness that had haunted him his entire life. And every time it reared its head, he found himself back at that little viewing window of the nursery to peer at the small sleeping bundle curled up quietly under her blanket.

Finally Oliver saw a familiar man rounding the corner up ahead. Even though he kept his interactions with the populace purposely at a minimum, he was never one to forget a face and suddenly it hit him. It was the same doctor with ashen blond hair that evaluated Wendy during his first… unfortunate experience at this hospital and for a moment, he wondered if the man was even coming for him, but the closer he came in his direction, the more grave of an expression he seemed to wear and it only confirmed his suspicions. Mentally trying to prepare himself for the worst, Oliver ran his fingers through his dark hair and turned back to gaze at the viewing window again to inwardly draw a bit of comfort from the baby that was unbeknownst to what was actually happening.

"The look on your face tells me that you remember me, Dr. Thredson… I certainly remember you." the doctor said as he approached and stood next to Oliver to peer into the window alongside him. "Congratulations on your baby girl."

Reaching out, Oliver shook his hand. "Thank you, but something tells me you're not here to talk about my baby."

The doctor turned to him, his clip board pressed under his arm. "Actually I am. I'm sorry to say this, but you see, she's the last one you're going to have, unfortunately."

====To Be Continued====

A/N: Thanks for reading!


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